In Temptations Path
by SecretlyWishingToCompelYou
Summary: "I'll leave you alone, I won't come near you again, if you just sleep with me once. Just the once. That's all I need." How do you resist someone so tempting? You don't, even if he's basically your step-brother...
1. Preface

**In Temptations path:**

**Disclaimer- The following is a work of fiction that I obviously do not own. I just borrowed the characters for recreational purposes to sate my Delena needs.**

**Full Summary- Two years after her father's death, Elena moves to the quaint town of Mystic Falls where she makes the acquaintance of no other but Damon Salvatore. He's assertive and domineering and turns her on with one glance, but he's also a badass with a reputation that precedes him. They despise each other, but are forced to reconcile when their parents begin dating, ensuring that they are stuck with one another for countless hours at a time. She tries to fight her attraction to him, but as their parent's relationship progresses and she finds herself spending more and more time with Damon, she discovers that it's a fight that she'll never truly win, especially since he's seducing her at every turn. Essentially all bundled under one roof, escapades are bound to unfold... How do you resist someone so intensely tempting, you ask? You don't, even if he's basically considered your step-brother...**

**Rating: M**

**A/N- This is only an insight to what the content of this story is about, so don't judge too hard. Constructive criticism is accepted, but please don't flame. Enjoy!**

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**Preface:**

I strolled down the stairs with an innocent, dimpled grin on my lips. My white, flowing, sundress trailed behind me as I ambled down and through the foyer and living area to the kitchen, listening to the old music station on the radio and the low off-key voice of my mother as she hummed along to the familiar tune.

I ignored the feeling of butterflies in my stomach as I spotted Giuseppe perched at the breakfast bar, rubbing a hand down his face, clearly distressed at something on his laptop, and Damon demolishing his piece of his toast whilst leaning against the cabinets besides my mum. He looked as delectable as ever; his sheer black hair in its usual sexy do and his signature black jeans and taught black t-shirt showcasing his rippling abs. His leather jacket was flung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

I grinned uneasily at my mother and leaned over her to grab a slice of toast. I could feel Damon's eyes on me and his nearness made my stomach flip some more. I took a tentative bite of toast before I spoke sweetly, trying to ignore Damon's infiltrating presence, "Mum?"

She hummed in response as she sunk her teeth into some toast herself, her doe eyes bright and warm.

"I was just wondering," I continued apprehensively, looping a strand of hair around my finger absentmindedly, "if I could go on a date with Stefan tonight? I know I don't need your permission or anything, but with you and Giuseppe going out for dinner tonight, I thought it would be best to ask, just in case, you know, Damon can't cope without me and all…" I trailed off, my grin widening when I heard Damon coughing and spluttering from behind me.

_Paybacks a bitch,_ I thought mischievously, as my mum took a stool besides Giuseppe at the breakfast bar, waiting for the bacon to fry I presumed.

"Will you be alright on your own, Damon?" My mum turned in her seat towards Damon, a worried crease etched into her forehead as he continued to choke on his toast.

"Uh…" He stuttered, his eyes never straying from me. He looked livid in that moment, as if he wanted to devour me or grab me and run. I could see it in the icy glare of his blue eyes that he wanted desperately to object, to say that he didn't want me to go out and be with "Saint Stefan", but be with him. But it was too late for that, he'd pushed me away and the deep-rooted rejection I'd felt had pushed me to _this -_this silly game we'd immersed ourselves in. "That's fine." He lied, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, but his eyes did not waver from me, they glared at me in my proverbial vision.

I smiled and ran towards him, leaning up on my tippy-toes to wrap my arms around his neck. He stiffened under my touch.

"Thank you!" I exploded, disentangling myself from him to plant a sloppy kiss on my mother's cheek. "I won't stay out too late, I promise."

She smiled appeasingly at my excitement and went to fetch coffee for her and Giuseppe, who was currently immersed in his laptop, eyes crinkled in concentration.

As I turned around and headed towards the stairs, I felt Damon's hand snake around my arm, pulling me to him; his grip was relentless.

"What do you think you're doing?" He hissed, the vein on his forehead throbbing, his face reddening. He looked absolutely livid, in fact, I could feel the shaking of his hand reverberating throughout my entire arm. I could also feel the instantaneous reaction his touch had on me.

I looked over his shoulder to the doorway leading to the kitchen, where my mum was busy fussing over the bacon, her back to us. I couldn't see Giuseppe from my position in the living room and silently preyed he couldn't see ours.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I whispered artlessly, "I'm going on a date with a boy I like-"

"You like him?" Damon was officially seething. His grip tightened on my arm and I grimaced. He immediately retracted his arm and took a step back, distancing himself from me. The emotion drained from his face, leaving him staring at the floor stoically.

Grasping at the opportunity, I dashed for the stairs and climbed them two at a time. I could hear my mother and Giuseppe speaking animatedly to one another and knew that they hadn't heard our little encounter.

I sighed in relief when I made it to the confines of my bedroom and turned on my heel to slam the door shut.

Instead, I was met with Damon standing possessively in my doorway, a devilish, lopsided grin lighting up his face as I tried to slam the door, but he easily caught it and flung it open, having, unbeknownst to me, bounded after me. The doorframe shook as it reverberated against the wall, making me jump and stumble backwards.

I backed up another step and he mimicked my actions, until the back of my knees hit the edge of my bed.

"Damon," I warned as my legs went weak underneath me. I plopped down onto the edge of the bed when his body lined up with mine. I needed to get away from him. _Now._

My lips trembled when he leaned forwards, reaching his hand out to stroke my cheek gently. I closed my eyes to concentrate on not feeling, but it was futile.

"Elena," He said breathily. The sound of my name rolling off of his tongue did strange things to my body and I felt my breaths come out in short rasps now, my ribcage moving rapidly.

And then I launched myself _backwards_, crawling as quickly as I could across my bed to get away from him. In the process, my dress rose up, revealing a white-lace covered ass. He groaned, in a mixture of lust and annoyance at my trying to escape, and then his hand collided with my ass and I moaned out lustfully, squealing as he snagged my ankle and flipped me over.

"I want you. _Now_." His words sent tingles down my spine as I murmured my assent. He spread my legs apart quickly and gently massaged the inside of my thighs, slowly working his way to the apex of them. I threw my head back in pleasure, _needing_ more of his touch, his proximity driving me insane.

All thoughts of escaping left me as I focused wholly on _feeling_.

How ironic it was that the one person I was sexually attracted to, was the one person I couldn't have. What can I say? It's a cruel, cruel world and I'm a sucker for bad boys it turns out -too bad that he just happens to be my mums, lovers, son...

"I'm yours." I croaked, moaning as his fingers slid the racy fabric of my panties aside. He bent swiftly to blow cold air right between my legs, before straightening to watch my contorting face. I shuddered and panted, watching him watch me. "Take what's yours, Damon." I was full of wanton desire, looking up at him wistfully.

His expression was fierce, controlling, "That's right, baby. _Mine_."

I rubbed my thighs together to create some friction –envisioning his large member that I'd became well acquainted with as of late. His eyes zeroed in on the movement, his nostrils flaring and his eyes flickering as he fought to reign in his waining self-control. Desperation clouded my judgement as I encompassed his hand with mine and placed it over my sex, urging him, feeling brazen with lust.

The urge to keep my hands from roaming his taut chest was impossible to supress. And so I didn't. I peeled his t-shirt from his chest as his thumb stroked me through the thin material of my panties. With every passing moment, I could feel myself growing increasingly more eager and, with it, bold. I slipped my hands into his hair and pressed myself against him, about to press my lips to his when I realised he wasn't into that sort of thing. I pulled him down to lie directly on top of me instead and moulded my body to his perfectly, fiddling with the zipper on his jeans. The feeling of his alert member prodding the inside of my thigh caused an animalistic urge to course through me and I found myself flipping him over so that I was straddling his waist. His hands slipped back under my dress to the source of my need. But he didn't succumb to touching me yet, instead he teased my delirious body; running his calloused hands over my hips and up my sides, palming my breasts. The feelings he was emitting from me were euphoric. I let him control and manipulate my body into the palms of his hands until I was about to implode, my body arching towards him of its own violation.

"Please," I said, retorting to begging –my yearning for him outweighing my subconscious. Without further ado, he threw me onto my back and slipped his hand into the front of my panties, circling my clit before slipping a single finger inside me. I shivered at the rippling pleasure that echoed through me and arched my back off of the bed, pressing myself more firmly to him.

My entire body quivered with need.

My breath hitched when he dragged his other hand from my kneecap up to the inner part of my thigh, kneading the flesh there, rubbing soothing circles with each sensual caress.

I bit my lip to stifle a groan when he inserted another finger, "Damon," I said –needy. We needed to keep our groans to a minimum otherwise mum and Giuseppe would intervene and all of our sneaking around and lingering glances across the dinner table would have been for nothing.

"I love it when you say my name like that." He breathed against my ear, earning a shiver from me. His lips brushed against my earlobe and I closed my eyes tightly shut. "Open your eyes. I want you to see that I'm the one who's making you feel this way –me, not Stefan or any other runt."

His hand was moving at a rhythmic pace, the heel of it rubbing directly over my clit. I bucked my hips, adding to the delirious pace at which he was working my body. Every limb was beginning to tremble and with the way he was touching me and his husky voice whispering in my ear, I could feel the tell-tale signs of my impending release building up. Sensing this, Damon pumped his fingers faster until I imploded, screaming his name, stifled only by his free hand firmly covering my panting lips. I bit down on my lip harder to prevent the screams that were threatening to burst out and could feel my walls flexing around his fingers, my muscles tightening. I rode out the waves of pleasure before he withdrew his fingers from me one by one. I was panting like a hooker by the time I felt him remove his weight from me.

Suddenly, I was lying on my back –alone and without breath. I sat up, my fists still gripping the sheets tightly, like a vice.

"Damon?"

He was standing on the threshold of my bedroom, his hand resting on my bedroom door as he retreated, his shirt in hand. He smirked deviously, "Have fun on your date."

The door closed with a soft click.


	2. Chapter 1

**In Temptations Path:**

**A/N- I forgot to mention in the preface that this fanfic is void of any vampires -ALL CHARACTERS ARE HUMAN. Also, someone mentioned that they'd have preferred it I'd it had started from their first meeting and eventually built up to this point. Just to clarify, THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER WAS A PREFACE -AN INSIGHT TO THE STORY IF YOU WILL. THIS CHAPTER AND HERE ON FORTH WILL BE MONTHS BEFORE THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER TOOK PLACE AND WE WILL EVENTUALLY WORK OUR WAY TO THAT POINT IN THE STORY. If anyone is confused or just wants to ask a question at any point, please just ask and I will be more than willing to answer any of your questions. With that said, please continue...**

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**Chapter 1:**

I stared longingly at the piled boxes in my new bedroom, twiddling my thumbs and fingers absentmindedly as I considered what box my prized journals were wedged in. After dad had died, my mum, Miranda, had encouraged me to convey my thoughts onto paper to ease the pain of my father's demise and I was more than happy to oblige. At first, they hadn't diminished the pain whatsoever, but over time I grew to enjoy the feeling of unleashing my emotions onto something else that wouldn't have to deal with the weight of my words. Dad had died in a car accident nearly two years prior, and I still wasn't over it. It was a complete different story for my mother though.

Don't get me wrong, my mum loved dad -she was distraught when he died. But I'm pretty certain that she's moving on. The man at the door with a bouquet of vibrant red roses encircled in his arms backs up my assumptions. There's a new man escorting her every month, but he's never _the one. _I tut under my breath and backed away from the window, shaking away the thoughts of him becoming my step-father.

_Nobody would ever replace my father,_ I thought bitterly, repulsed by the mere thought of it. Just as this thought flickered through my cluttered head, my mother opened the front door with a bright smile on her face.

I was thankful that Jeremy, my brother, was not present at this moment. He despised seeing handfuls of men taking mum on countless dates every month, and, unfortunately, mum was oblivious to this facet of information. He hid it well behind his mask of indifference, but I could see the pain in his eyes -exactly the same shade of green as our fathers- when he caught them kissing her cheek before tucking her safely into their car. He was a year younger than myself -only sixteen years old- and he was heavily burdened with the death of our father. Since our fathers death, he'd turned to drugs and excessive drinking -he rejected the journal mum presented him with. At times it seemed as if I was the only influence in his life and I took pride in that. He looked up to me and respected me and listened to what I had to say. He'd stopped taking drugs since I'd begged him and he'd lowered the consumption of alcohol over the past few months. The was he acted made it seem like he felt responsible for dads death, but in reality it was my fault and I blamed myself every day for the dreadful nights occurrences on that bridge by our old home, miles away from here.

Muttering under my breath, I trudged back to the window and threw the beige curtains shut, successfully blocking them from my view.

I noticed a box with 'books' scrawled across the side of it and decided that was the best place, if any, to start searching for my beloved journal. I grinned when I noticed its worn corners peeking out from behind my personal copy of Wuthering Heights, and retrieved it. The sight of it rekindled old memories and I wiped some excess dust off of it as I stumbled to my bed, which was laden with scatter cushions in varying hues of beige and grey.

I fell back onto my bed and let out a sigh of relief. Today had been stressful to say the least, what with being in the process of moving houses and all. A fresh start mum had said -a new town to repress old memories. There were complications along the way, of course, what with me being defiant and adamantly not wanting to leave our old home –the only home I'd ever known.

I peeled the cover open and flicked to a clean, new page and began writing how it's ironic that the page symbolised the beginning of my new life in this quaint town of Mystic Falls and how, tomorrow, I'd enrol onto Mystic Falls High School –the bane of my existence.

* * *

I woke with a start –gasping and sweating. It's the same dream as usual –my dad pounding his fists relentlessly onto the unwavering glass of his car window, his mouth opened in a scream, yet no sound escapes him. And I'm just standing idly by, unable to move because I'm wedged in place by some unknown force. Then his car sinks into the dark and murky water until it's out of my view and I'm left hunched over on the pavement. I never do realise what holds me back in that dream, I awaken before I see the person that restrains me every time.

I let my head fall back onto the pillow and tried to regulate my breathing. I'd grown accustomed to this over the years and so I knew the routine I must go through to gain back the control of my emotions.

I laid flat on my back, my hair sprawled out like a halo around my head and I envisioned what tomorrow –or today should I say- will bring me. The thought of meeting new people made my heart beat erratically through my chest and I turned onto my side and tried to forget what today would bring.

My clock read 6:03am when I finally gave up on trying to sleep and I groggily rose from my slumber, a yawn on my lips. I arrived in my own bathroom and groaned at the sight of tendrils of my hair sticking to the beads of sweat on my forehead. Deciding that a wash is much needed, I clambered into the shower and fumbled with the unfamiliar dials to higher the heat, eventually fumbling for my choice of clothing for the day. I decide on a pair of faded jeans, a blue crotchet top and white converse.

My hair lay limp and dry on either side of my face and so I scrounged through the moving boxes for my tongs, intending to curl my hair. I fixed my make-up in place and threw my bag over my shoulder, heading for the door.

"What about breakfast?" Mum called from the kitchen where the sound of sizzling hit my ears and the smell of bacon and eggs invaded my senses. I padded to the kitchen and grabbed a granola bar from a cupboard, holding it up for inspection with a smirk on my face.

"You ready?" I smiled reassuringly to Jeremy, watching him devour his breakfast.

He nodded his head in turn and dumped his empty plate and utensils in the sink. Making his way towards me, he froze with one foot in the air. As if a last minute errand, he leaned over the countertop and placed a gentle kiss on mums cheek before continuing his path towards the front door.

"Okay, well, good luck, kids. Have fun." Mum called out as we both made our way to my car.

I grimaced at the word _fun _and escaped before she could interrogate me any further, twirling my keys around my finger.

"Ready?" I asked Jeremy, turning the keys in the ignition.

"Ready."

As soon as we arrived at the school parking lot, my gaze fell to the group of typical boys laughing animatedly at something one of them had said.

I rolled my eyes theatrically and parked a couple of cars down from them, evading them. Jeremy and I parted ways with an awkward farewell and I sluggishly trekked towards the school entrance. Of course, my plan didn't work as well as I'd hoped. I heard the snickers and jeering as I walked by them, saw them elbowing one another with lopsided grins on their faces, directing their fingers at me.

"Hey, sugar," One of them called out to me.

I froze mid-step and ducked my head, continuing on down the path leading to the entrance. _Self-righteous bastards, _I thought dejectedly.

As I rounded the corridor, I felt something hard bump into me and went stumbling backwards, falling directly onto my backside. I felt my cheeks burn a bright crimson and ducked my head, letting my hair fall over my face as I returned to my feet.

"Sorry," I muttered, walking past the person I'd unintentionally collided with. I felt a strong hand snake around my arm and pull me back towards them. I gasped and stumbled a little until I was standing directly in front of them.

"Name?" The boy with silky black locks and piercing cobalt blue eyes questioned, staring at his cuticles intently, like they held the answer to life.

The boy in question was beyond gorgeous with his angular jaw and bushy eyebrows. Too bad he was an egotistical jerk with an attitude to boot.

"Excuse me?" I said, dumbstruck by his audacity to speak to me in that tone of voice.

"I said, what is your name?" He repeated himself, saying each syllable independently as if I was some freak of nature that didn't grasp something simple. He averted his eyes to me, letting his hand fall limply to his side. His expression was tense and stern, calculating and mischievous.

"I don't know who you think you are, but barging into someone and then demanding to know their name is disrespectful, and I don't appreciate the gesture…" I trailed off, folding my arms defiantly across my chest. His eyes zeroed in on the movement and he licked his lips.

He chuckled quietly and mimicked my action, folding his arms across his chest, "What, do you expect an apology?" I raised my eyebrows and waited for his sincerest apology that I knew deep down would never come, and I was right in my speculations.

"Damon, let's go!" A masculine voice boomed from down the hallway. Damon –as I'd just learned- turned and nodded his head in assent of his friend's words before turning back to me with a lopsided grin in full effect.

He leaned forward, his lips dangerously close to my ear, his breath warm on my neck, and whispered hoarsely, "Well, you'll be waiting for a long time, Miss…?"

Regaining my composure and closing my mouth, I smirked and leaned just as close to his ear, "You'll be waiting for a long time before you discover my name, _Damon._"

Judging by the priceless expression on his face, he'd never been spoken to or rejected in such a manner. I grinned one last time for affect and turned on my heels, leaving him stunned into silence in my wake.

As I clambered in my new locker for my newly purchased textbooks, I felt a presence beside me and rolled my eyes, turning towards who I suspected was Damon. After all, he was the only person I'd had the pleasure to make the acquaintance of. Insert eye roll. "What do you want, Da-?" I grumbled, slamming my locker shut so I could see him. I was cut off when I realised that it wasn't Damon, but a girl with flouncing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes –not as astonishingly blue as Damon's, of course.

"Caroline," She smiled, extending her hand to me. I stared at her hand accusingly and didn't make a move to shake it. Awkwardly, she retracted her hand and hung it limply at her side.

"Elena," I said grimly, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

_What does she want?_

"So, I saw you talking to Damon…"

_Of course._

"What's it to you?" I sneered, adjusting the strap of my backpack to accommodate my textbooks.

"Nothing, I was just curious. He looked livid." She observed, flickering her gaze to me as we walked side by side to our respective classes. "Do you guys know each other from somewhere? Are you one of his girls or something?"

_Girls? Was he some sort of pimp or something?_

"Excuse me?" I spat, shocked past the point of recognition. "I've never met Damon a day in my life and I am certainly not one of his _girls_."

"Oh, I-I'm sorry." She gulped, blushing profusely. "It's just; things looked kinda intense between the two of you."

"Well, there's nothing going on between us. I've only just met the guy, okay?" I snapped, shaking my head at the absurdity of the situation.

"Yeah, I completely understand. Sorry for being so…"

"Bitchy? It's fine." I smiled at her reassuringly and she smiled dimply in return.

Her grin spread and a small laugh escaped her, "I was going to say accusing, but bitchy is fine. What class do you have first?"

"Umm, chemistry. You?"

"Chemistry." She squealed excitedly, "Maybe we can be lab partners."

"Maybe." I smiled. Her laughter was infectious.

The first thing I noticed as I passed the threshold of the Chemistry classroom was the dishevelled midnight hair of Damon. He was twisted in his seat so I could not see his face, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was him. The contours of his back were defined and rippled under his tight-fitted black tee, and I could only imagine what it would feel like to run my hands over them, to feel him quiver under my touch. I could feel the slight wetness in my panties and instantly shook my head to dispel my train of thought.

"Ah, Miss Gilbert." The teacher whose identifier read Mr Saltzman said in greeting. He gestured for me to come to his desk with a small flick of his wrist. I looked to Damon one last time as I ambled towards his desk and noticed that he was staring at me with a wry grin on his lips.

_Way to blow up the cover, Mr Saltzman. _

"Settle down," He addressed the class before attending to me, "Now, what are we going to do with you?" He thought aloud, tapping his pen to his lip calculatingly.

"There's a spare seat here, sir." I froze at the sound of his voice, my eyes dilating in shock. "Miss Gilbert is more than welcome to claim it."

I could hear Caroline protesting from the other side of the classroom where she sat with a girl with tan skin and silky black hair that complimented her complexion.

"Perfect," Mr Saltzman grinned, pleased with his accomplishment.

Still in a daze, I stumbled my way to the back of the classroom where Damon was seated at a lab desk. I flung my bag under the desk and sat beside him silently.

Mr Saltzman droned on about what subjects we'd be covering this term and made us take notes on each one. Time seemed to drag sitting next to Damon and I was more than eager for the tardy bell to signal the end of the lesson. I was beginning to regret choosing Chemistry as an option.

"I always get what I want, Miss Gilbert." Damon whispered near to my ear about halfway through the lesson. The pen in my hand faltered and I squeezed it until I thought the pressure I was exerting on it would make it explode. "You'll do well to remember that."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

I slowed my jog into a brisk walk and admired the setting sun as it lowered down the horizon. The light played across the river idyllically, casting a cool breeze over the water and causing a ripple affect in the small current. The smell of muggy trees assaulted my senses, and I closed my eyes, revelling in the feelings that washed over me. This was my favourite time of day -whether it was because of the looming sleep that awaited me or because of its striking mixture of vibrant colours, it didn't matter.

I readjusted my headphone strap that held my phone to my forearm and tightened my hair in the confines of it's hairband until it hurt. I was sporting a white sports bra, that revealed my toned stomach and accentuated my breasts, and black three-quarter length spandex sport shorts that showed off my tan calf's. My hair was also tide back in a slick ponytail, or at least it was.

With a sigh, I continued my routine-like trek through Mystic Falls until I stumbled upon a lively area with people bustling about.

I came to a complete halt when a dull cream building with dark wooden beams came into view. The cosy restaurants sign read_ 'Mystic Grill' _and besides that was a poster haphazardly stuck to one of the windows that read_ 'staff needed'_ in a scruffy scrawl.

The detail in the brickwork was picturesque and breathtaking. I was staggered by its beauty for a moment, and as I padded towards it, I noticed something -or someone- that caught my eye.

Caroline was leaning over an outdoor table with a dishcloth in hand, scrubbing at the tables as tendrils of her hair flew around her face in the fierce wind, "Elena!" She called out to me, waving the ragged cloth in my direction once she identified me.

I smiled easily at her and made my way towards her.

"Hey, Caroline."

"What brings you here?" She questioned blithely, her eyes roaming over and taking in my attire.

Caroline reminded me of some sort of crazy, eccentric detective or something. Given I'd only known her but a day, she'd been monitoring everything I did as if she was expecting something from me. She was persistent, but erratically caring and, for now, she was in my metaphorical good book.

"Well, I was just going for my ritual jog," I explained, glossing down my hair which I suspected was a messy disarray, "and I noticed the sign in the window." I gestured lazily to the sign behind her with a fling of my arm and she followed my gaze to the luminous green poster.

"Oh," She mumbled when she realised what I was babbling on about, "you're looking for a job?"

Was I? I hadn't set out on applying for a job after only moving here so recently, but as I thought about it, the idea progressively grew on me. It would give me a chance to interact with Caroline and meet some new people, and it would get me out of the oppressing gloominess that hung over the house since mum was out either working in the hospital or dating, and Jeremy was locked away in his bedroom with his headphones glued to his ears. He'd evolved into such a little punk over the years...

"Not intentionally, no, but I figured about thirty seconds ago that it wouldn't hurt to apply." I shrugged indifferently.

"I'll make sure to put in a good word for you." She winked proudly at me, smug with herself.

I nodded with a small smile on my lips and excused myself before manoeuvring my way past her towards the intricately carved entrance.

Upon passing the threshold of Mystic Grill, the distinct smells of different assortments of food invaded my senses and I very nearly inhaled the orgasmic fragrance with my eyes closed.

The keyword in that sentence being 'nearly'.

Gathering my scattered thoughts together, I advanced towards the young man behind the bar serving a customer. Every so often, he'd cast a dumbstruck glance in my direction as if he didn't have a clue what I was doing here. Frankly, neither did I. I waited patiently for him to complete his order before approaching him cautiously.

"Can I help you with something?" He asked politely, turning the charm on. I recognised his blonde locks, blue irises and baby face from one of my classes, but I couldn't put a name to the face.

"Umm, yes," I muttered awkwardly before clearing my throat, "I couldn't help but notice the sign in the window out front. Do you still need new employees?"

An infectious grin now enveloped his face and he nodded his head vigorously, "We're desperate. Did you want to apply for the job?"

"Sure," I nodded my head and wiped some perspiration off of my forehead. I could feel beads of sweat slowly trickling down the back of my neck, but I ignored the urge to swipe them off and just smiled numbly as he held up one finger to indicate that he'd return within the minute. He disappeared behind the 'employees only' sign and returned shortly after with a lanky man in tow.

The man in reference was tall with a slender build and perfectly styled brown hair. He roughly looked in his mid-thirties at earliest and early-forties at latest. He was an attractive man to say the least, but only to someone around my mothers age. Just by looking at his pristine, unwrinkled suit, you could acknowledge that he was a well groomed man of high importance.

I gulped at the sight of him, but stepped forward with my hand outstretched despite this, a placid smile plastered to my face. "Elena Gilbert." I identified myself, shaking his hand firmly.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Gilbert. I'm formally known as Mr Salvatore, but you may call me Giuseppe if you wish. Mr Donovan, here," He gestured to Mr Donovan politely before continuing, "has informed me that you'd like to apply for a place here at Mystic Grill?"

"Well, Mr Donovan is correct."

I spotted Caroline over Giuseppe's shoulder, scrubbing at one of the unoccupied tables. She was staring at me intently as she cleaned, and, upon realising that I had caught her, she grinned widely at me and put two thumbs up on either side of her face reassuringly. I chuckled softly to myself and shook my head as if to clear it, my grin dispersing when I noticed Giuseppe had one eyebrow raised in question at my unexplained actions. Smiling timidly up at him, I cleared my throat.

"Very well." His eyes roamed over me from head to toe as he took in my choice of wardrobe. There was nothing in his gaze to show me that he approved, which I highly doubted. I was a sweaty mess. He observed me like a petulant child for a moment, searching for something that he must have found. He heaved a sigh and shook his wristwatch free from beneath his suit jacket, eyeing it carefully for a moment. "Follow me." He turned on his heel and began to retreat into the back of Mystic Grill. I knew that he wanted me to follow him, obviously, but I was not prepared for an interview on the spot.

"Excuse me, sir, but I'm not dressed in the proper attire for an interview. I thought maybe we could schedule for a later date." I trailed off, fidgeting with my fingers nervously.

He studied me for a moment, his lips pursed tightly. "Unfortunately, Miss Gilbert, I am unavailable for the remainder of this week and partially next week -I have a lot of business to attend to- but you are more than welcome to come by any day of the week for an interview with my son. I understand if you'd prefer to wait since he can be a little... Intimidating. We could always schedule for a later date."

"No, that's fine. I'm sure I can handle your son, Mr Salvatore." I smiled, running a hand through my hair, "How about Thursday after school?" That would give me a few days to settle in and get a suitable outfit in order.

"Perfect. He'll see you in three days. Good luck, Miss Gilbert."

I smiled thankfully at Giuseppe and shook his hand a final time before making my way towards Caroline.

"How'd it go?" She asked hopefully. She had now referred to mopping and was leaning against the mop, her chin resting lightly on the tip.

"I've scheduled an interview for Thursday."

She squealed exuberantly at my words and tipped her head back in laughter. Whilst she animatedly babbled on about the pros and cons of working at Mystic Grill and the timing and blah-blah-blah, I took my time in inspecting my surroundings.

It was luxuriously decorated and perfectly polished, which I applauded to Caroline. The colour theme consisted of pastel colours -homey browns and caramel creams. The decor was mostly dark wooden booths, stools and table sets, with crystal chandeliers dangling from the beamed ceiling. Around the bar were tiny blue spotlights embedded throughout the surface with thick plastic tree branches stretching across the bar wall. Mr Salvatore had exquisite taste it seemed.

I was wrenched from my thoughts at the sound of excessive giggling and boisterous banter from the other side of the restaurant. I turned on the spot and rather nosily observed the squad of teenagers playfully punching each others arms and whispering obscenities in each other's ears. I rolled my eyes at the cliché of it all.

Damon was sitting among the squad in his jockey uniform with his arm draped over a brunettes shoulder who was sporting a crimson cheerleading uniform.

_Obviously, he's a member of the popular society, _I thought drearily.

Despite this, I drank in his attire with greedy eyes. His crimson football jersey was taught to his chest and his matching white skintight Lycra shorts were hugging his thighs snugly to show off his tense thighs and calfs. I could see every curve and bend.

_Damn._

Seemingly out of nowhere, Giuseppe leaned over the back of the booth Damon and his friends occupied and whispered something in Damon's ear, gesturing towards _me_. I froze as Giuseppe walked away.

_What the fuck?!_

When Damon caught sight of me gaping at him like a fish, he winked suggestively at me and wiggled his fingers over the cheerleaders shoulder in greeting. The girl besides him -Tessa?- strained her neck to glare at me from under his arm and placed her hand on his chest, whispering something in his ear -staking her claim on him.

_Sweetheart, you can have him, _I thought bitterly.

With a caustic smirk plastered to my face, I waved my hand once in mock salute and scathingly cast a glare at him. He chuckled at my reaction and, strangely, didn't tear his gaze from my figure as I turned to face Caroline again.

She'd just finished her not-so-little speech and was smiling sweetly up at me.

"I'm guessing this is the regular hangout for our school?" It sounded more like a question than a statement to my ears.

She rolled on the balls of her feet until her short stature was closer to my towering height. _(Well, towering compared to her and most girls my age)._ "Yup." She said, popping the 'p', "Can I ask you something?" I nodded my head, bewildered. "Why is Damon staring at you?"

"He is?" I whispered, as if he could hear me from afar. I cast a curious and dubious glance over my shoulder and blushed when I recognised Damon -with his chiselled jaw and vibrant blue eyes- staring at me in the same stance as before. He hadn't moved an inch...

His penetrating gaze did wonders to my body and I shivered due to his open ogling of my frame, which only succeeded in widening his obnoxious smirk.

I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my chest self-consciously. Facing Caroline, I sighed and shook my head, "I don't know."

She raised her eyebrow at my retort, obviously suspecting that I was speaking candidly. "What?" I jeered defiantly, "I'm telling the truth."

She stared intently at me for a moment, until her gaze softened and she nodded her head in affirmation.

"Look," I sighed after a moment, flickering my gaze down to my wristwatch, "I better get going. I'm late and I need to finish up on my evening jog before Jeremy calls -famished."

She frowned slightly at my comment, but nodded her head. "See you tomorrow?"

I nodded my head, "See you at lunch."

A grin now enveloped her face and she nodded her head hastily, pleased with my words.

As I absconded the small slope leading to the exit, I caught sight of Damon still gawking at me in my peripheral vision and ducked my head as I passed the threshold.

I silently prayed that this wasn't the regular hangout for Damon. It would be the death of me if it turned out otherwise -if I got the job, of course.

* * *

**A/N- Your opinion is greatly appreciated, so thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed or favourited ****_In Temptations Path, _****it really means a lot to me and urges me to continue writing for you guys. Although I have a general gist as to where I want this to go, if anyone has any ideas that they'd like to share and see in this fanfic, feel free to do so and I'll gladly consider the possibility.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: **

Leisurely, I placed my textbooks into my locker, arranging them neatly to waste a couple of minutes. I had gym next and, although I sort of enjoyed the compulsory class, I would much prefer to dawdle for a few measly minutes to ensure that the changing rooms were empty upon arriving to them. I didn't want some strangers staring at my too-skinny frame as I changed.

"OCD-ish much?" I jumped slightly at the intruding sound and knocked my little pile of textbooks slightly. Great, they were astray now...

_Wow, maybe I am a little OCD-ish... _I thought to myself dubiously.

Swiftly, I fixed the fallen books and turned on my heel with a coy smile on my lips, "Can I help you with something, Damon?" I couldn't subdue the venom in my voice when I sneered his name spitefully. I slammed my locker door shut for effect and turned on my heel, bounding down the corridor with my bag hugged to my chest and Damon in tow.

He raised his eyebrows at my retort and smirked lopsidedly at me, "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." He observed. When I shot him a reproachful glare he raised his hands in surrender and chuckled softly. My insides quivered and jolted at the sound. He cleared his throat, "Actually, there _is_ something you can help me with."

"And what might that be?" I sighed and veered to the right at the end of the corridor. It took him off guard and he jogged a couple of steps to keep up with me, obviously put off with my evasiveness, my snarky attitude and my mood.

Truthfully, I was in a particular bad mood due to lack of sleep; today was only the second day of school, a terrible Tuesday, and I'd spent the most part of the night unpacking boxes after attending to Jeremy's hunger and my own. Mum was working late last night and so she ate at the hospital. She hated turkey sandwiches, but she made do. Due to this, I was overly exhausted and looked a _complete_ mess.

My straggly hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, still maintaining yesterday's curls, and my outfit was mismatched; a pair of faded jeans with torn knees from where I'd fallen over years back and a red sweater that was much too small for me. My cleavage was straining against the taunt material, begging to be released.

"I was sort of hoping that you'd bring that cute little ass of yours to a party tonight -a pool party. _My_ pool party." He winked at me and flashed me his infamous lopsided grin.

"What's the occasion?"

"There isn't one."

"Well, my _cute little ass _won't be attending this party of yours." I retorted, quickening my pace.

"And why would that be?" His brows were furrowed in blatant confusion now. Obviously, he'd never been rejected before.

"For one, I have a job interview for Thursday that I need to prepare for and, for two, I don't want to go to a ridiculous pool party, much less yours." I smirked at my ingenious response, smug with my comeback.

"Ouch," he hissed, placing his hand over his heart theatrically, "that hurt."

"Good." I said indignantly.

After a moment of silence, Damon spoke up, "Is this the same interview you applied for yesterday at Mystic Grill?"

I froze mid-step, a chagrined expression plastered to my astonished face.

_What the ever loving fuck?! _

"How do you know about that?" I whispered impishly.

_Not so tough now, are you?_ My subconscious snickered inwardly. Damon's sidelong glance affixed with a mischievous grin proved that he was on the same train of thought as myself.

I felt the cool of his breath brush the curve of my neck and felt him inhale there. Frozen, I couldn't move. His nose trailed down to the nape of my neck to my ear, his lips brushing the rim of it. "Because," He breathed seductively, "I'll be the one administrating the interview."

Then he was gone, strolling down the deserted corridor casually as if he had not just emitted these pressing feelings from within me. The fact that his breath emitted these feelings was the thing that bothered me the most. I mean, he's breathing carbon dioxide onto my skin and I'm feeling wanton with lust?!

So, was Damon the son of Giuseppe?

_Fuck!_

I made it to gym within the nick of time, the girls only just having started playing volleyball. Coach didn't even notice me quickly slide into the gymnasium behind the crowd of fawning girls, he was too occupied demonstrating tactics with another student to take any notice.

Throughout the entire lesson, my mind continued to wander to thoughts of Damon.

How could Damon be the son of Giuseppe when they were so obviously opposites? After awhile, everything began to click into place; images of Giuseppe leaning over the booth to whisper inconspicuously into Damon's ear invaded my mind. Was it true? Damon... Salvatore? Or was he trying to get one over me to make me feel agitated? After all, the bartender, whom Giuseppe had referred to as Mr Donovan, or whomever else who had overheard about my interview, could have informed Damon and he was just trying to get back at me for my sour attitude to him. Furthermore, Giuseppe could have been telling him and his friends to clear out when he'd spoken to Damon in the booth... But Damon wouldn't take it to these extremes would he?

One thing was for certain, I was highly conflicted by the mystery of Damon... _Salvatore_.

* * *

Caroline took a swig of her mothers supply of liquor and handed me the bottle, I took a healthy chug and then another, passing the bottle back to her. Caroline brandished an old midnight blue bikini in my face and continued to babble on about this stupid pool party that she was forcing me to attend.

"You _have_ to go!" She exclaimed, dangling the offensive item of clothing from her pinky finger. With the other hand, she took a long slurp from the bottle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Must I?" I pouted miserably. It was inevitable that I would end up attending but I couldn't help but try to dissuade her. Caroline had been bustling on about this goddamn party since lunch and she was set on going. One thing I'd learned about Caroline was that she was adamant. It was one of the many things I liked about her.

"Damon's going to be there..." She smiled excitedly at me and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as if that would entice me into going.

I heaved a huff of a laugh, "And that right there is one reason I don't want to go."

After taking yet another swig, she handed the bottle to me and pressed on, "So, what are the other reasons behind you not wanting to go?" I noticed the way she said '_not wanting' _compared to _'not going' _and heaved a sigh.

"I've told you, I've got the interview with him on Thursday and I need to prepare for it." I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, troubled. I still couldn't get my head around that facet of information.

"What, so you've got to put together an outfit? You don't need two days to coordinate an outfit, Elena! FYI, he's going to hire you." She stated matter of factly.

"And why would that be?"

"You're pretty." She shrugged.

"And that constitutes to getting the job?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly, put off the job by her petty and vulgar words. I placed the bottle of liquor on my bedside cabinet.

"_No,_" she groaned, putting emphasis on the word, "it's just that Damon likes pretty girls to look at whilst he works."

It took me a moment to process what she was putting across. Damon worked there?!

"He _works_ there?!" I voiced my thoughts.

"Of course he does, he's Giuseppe's _son_ -the owner? You met him yesterday?" She explained, tilting her head to the side slightly.

I gestured for her to continue with a swipe of my hand as I drank in the information she was feeding me. After she leant across my bed to retrieve the bottle of liquor she'd stolen from her mothers liquor cabinet before she'd come barging into my home, she continued, "Well, him and his wife -Damon's mother- split a few years back and Damon spends his time with both parents," _Swig_, "but since Giuseppe works a lot, Damon decided to work there to be close to his father, although Giuseppe's usually cooped up in his office all day long." _Swig_, "It's rather pointless, to be honest, he doesn't get paid for it. Mind you, he doesn't need it. They're sort of a wealthy family and well known around town. Hence why we are most definitely attending tonight." She wiggled the bottle in my face as I stared at her indifferently, expressionless. She glared at me playfully until I swiped the bottle from her hands, rolling my eyes in the process.

With that said, she launched the bikini at my face and skipped to the bathroom to change into her green one.

At least I'd put together a few pieces of the puzzle that was Damon Salvatore...

* * *

I self-consciously slung my arms across my chest, covering my bikini clad breasts that were threatening to spill out of the tiny article of clothing.

Caroline rolled her eyes accusingly at my posture and tinged cheeks, "You look perfect, Elena, I really don't understand you..." She trailed off, side-eyeing me accusingly.

With a '_Humph_,' I slipped through the front door of the Salvatore house with my favourite white dress on. Caroline wore a brown sarong that hung haphazardly low on her hips, making a patch of green bikini bottoms visible to any preying eyes. And, of course, eyes were undoubtedly preying.

Caroline said I looked sexy. In my eyes, I looked like a fucktard bimbo in this stupid bikini getup. I vowed not to take my dress off.

_At all._

The sound of music echoing from the backyard grasped Caroline's attention. She squealed exuberantly at me and grabbed my hand, leading me through the hallway and the bustling kitchen to the garden area.

The grass was an exquisite shade of deep green, the flower beds various hues of blue, red, purple and white. The whole garden area was immaculate, prim and proper, except for the bikini clad hips and swimming trunks swinging seductively around the marvellous swimming pool, sloppily dropping empty red cups along the floor, which was scattered with droplets of water dripping from wet bodies. A jacuzzi was off to the side with a row of bushes shielding it from view, ensuring that it was privately hidden from anybody else in the garden. My mind drifted to Mystic Grill. It seemed that the Salvatore's had tasteful design, referring to both interior and exterior décor.

I could actually picture myself residing here, but with mum's minuscule pay check and the dwindling income since dad's death, I couldn't imagine relocating to a house of this impressive standard within the near future.

I jumped slightly and released a squeak when someone tapped my shoulder lightly, I could faintly hear them calling my name over the blaring music. It felt like the music was being injected into my brain, seeping into every thought and overriding them.

Mr Donovan stood innocently behind me with a small smile adorning his slight lips. He extended his hand to me in greeting, his baby blue eyes bright, "We didn't really have a chance to introduce ourselves yesterday," He began, "I'm Matt."

"I'm Elena." I smiled, shaking his sturdy, extended hand.

"I know." When he smiled, dimples appeared on either of his chunky cheeks and I couldn't help but grin back. I recalled him shouting my name just a couple of seconds ago and blushed at my thoughtlessness as he already knew my name.

"Would you like something to drink?" He questioned.

"Yes please!" Caroline interjected over the music. I immediately felt guilty for forgetting that she was there and blushed profusely, mouthing a '_sorry_' to her. She tilted her head to the side with a reproachful look in her eyes, but nodded her head forgivingly at my pleading expression.

"Thank you, Matt." I smiled apologetically.

Matt awkwardly nodded his head in assent of my words and ambled through the throng of swaying bodies.

"We used to date." Caroline explained in my ear when Matt was out of hearing distance. That explained the tension...

"What happened?" I asked nosily. She shrugged and averted her eyes in return.

_Right, touchy subject..._

Matt returned with three red cups full of some unknown substance a while later. He looked past Caroline's shoulder as he handed her a cup, but just as he slipped the cup into my hand -his fingers lingering their a little longer than necessary- Tessa_ 'fell' _into Matt and knocked him, effectively making him spill my drink down the front of my dress. The liquid seeped through the thin material and soaked my chest.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, pinching the front of the dress to prevent it from sticking to my chest.

Tessa giggled at my dumbfounded expression and placed her hand to her mouth, "Oops."

Speaking of fucktard bimbos...

She was clinging off of Damon's arm and giggling profusely. It suddenly dawned on me why she would act such a way. She was jealous that I got to sit next to Damon in chemistry, I recalled her snarling face yesterday from the desk a handful of rows in front of him...

_Assigned seats are a bitch,_ I though menacingly.

I released my dress from between my fingers as Matt apologised repeatedly, but I drowned out his voice -Damon was grinning at me from ear to ear, proud of his girl undoubtedly.

Slowly, I grabbed the hem of my dress, fiddling with the edges for a second, debating. He undressed me with his eyes as his grin disappeared. As he licked his lips, I tugged on the hem of my dress torturously slow and pulled it over my head.

And here I vowed I'd never take it off... Pfft...

His eyes widened, as well as Matts, as his eyes roamed over my attire and drank me in. Tessa's face fell. She was livid.

Tessa had her arms flung around Damon's neck possessively, her nails sunk into his skin and he flinched in pain, distancing himself from her. She glared at me venomously and stalked off dramatically, her feet slapping harshly against the drenched and sticky pavement.

_Such a drama queen..._

I chugged down the half-full cup of remaining alcohol and threw the cup aside, my eyes trained on Damon.

"Wanna dance?" Caroline grinned like the Cheshire cat from _Alice in Wonderland_ and my gaze flickered to hers, her expression devious and pleased with my performance. I nodded my head eagerly and padded barefoot towards the area were people were moving rhythmically to the music.

Smiling, I grabbed her hand and spun her around as she ground her ass into the air. Deviously, I smacked it playfully and she squeaked, giggling.

By now, all of the attention was affixed on us. Boys were chortling and cheering us on around us, but Damon...

Damon was sitting in a plastic chair, glaring at me as he chugged down his beer. His thick brows were in a constant sneer and his eyes bore into me. I felt someone grinding on me from behind and grimaced, pushing them off. I didn't want some strangers junk up in my funk!

Within seconds, Damon was striding towards me with a stoney glare plastered to his face. I gulped at the sight of him and cowered back as he pushed the boy aside. He tore off his black tee and threw it in my face.

"Put it on," He near growled, when I didn't make a move to obey, he rubbed a hand down his face; distressed, "_now_."

I did as I was told, the t-shirt much too big for me. It sagged off of my small frame.

Shocked into silence, I stared as he strutted indoors with his bare chest and back etched into my mind.

_Holy Jesus... _

Without my assent, I found my feet padding towards his retreating figure, my face as blank as a canvas.

Once we reached the empty kitchen, him oblivious to my stalking him, I stood awkwardly by the centre island behind him. I leaned on it for support and cleared my throat to grab his attention.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed as he spun around to face me in surprise, shocked at my presence. I scratched the back of my neck nervously. "What do you want, Gilbert?" He sighed once he'd regained his at ease composure.

"Sorry," I mumbled helplessly, "I just wanted to grab a bottle of water." He nodded his head and reached into the fridge, retrieving a bottle before throwing it at me. I barely caught it. He didn't turn back to face me, instead, he rested his forehead against the sliver refrigerator, "And to say that I'm sorry." I continued awkwardly.

He sighed with his back to me, the sound reverberating against the fridges' chilled surface, "For what?" He sounded bitter, but in an infuriated and put-out sort of way, not resentful.

"I...Umm..." I muttered. Why did I want to apologise again?

A heavy silence hung over us as I fumbled over my words, his back still to me.

"Why don't you just leave?" He pleaded without warning.

"I-I thought you wanted me to bring my cute ass here?" I blushed at my feeble excuse. I _really_ shouldn't have let Caroline drag my drunk ass here...

He chuckled at my response and shook his head. "You'll be the death of me, Gilbert."

I inhaled deeply, "Elena," I whispered gently, trying to ease his sombre mood. He threw a cautious and bewildered glance over his shoulder and surveyed me as I stood awkwardly in _just_ his t-shirt. "My name is Elena."

His lip quirked up at the corner into a half-smile. I opened my mouth to congratulate him on this, but quickly closed it. I didn't want to sour his mood any further, especially since I'd never seen him in this light. So laid-back and at ease with himself... and with me. "Elena." He smiled, testing out the word on his tongue. His smile broadened into a full-on smirk and then he was striding towards me. Leaning down deliriously close to my ear, he whispered, "I told you that I always get what I want."

And Damon was back to his infuriating self...

* * *

**A/N- So, Damon's already affected by Elena. What'd you think? I'm so sorry for the long wait but I've been on holiday this whole time in my defence, and I only got back home yesterday. Hopefully, this rather long chapter makes up for it and since there was no damon/elena dialogs last chapter, I decided to make it up to you lovely lot this chapter. Next chapter, I _think_ it will be the interview. Reviews are highly appreciated and encourage me to write faster! **


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

_Why am I so early?_

The lone thought reverberated throughout my pounding brain as I tried to focus on applying a light layer of clear lip-gloss to my puckered lips. I hated the gooey shit, but I'm masochistic and so I continued to glue my lips together with the gunk.

Sue me.

Letting my eyes lazily drift over the deserted school parking lot, I realised that only a smattering of cars were present. The pristine cars were void of anybody and I quickly gathered that they were cars belonging to the teachers of Mystic Falls High. I shrugged indifferently and averted my attention back to the matter at hand –applying lip-gloss.

Scowling at my reflection in the rear-view mirror with my lip-gloss tube in hand, I admonished myself for my internal bantering. It hurt to think, what with my pounding headache that made everything seem as if it had a pulse. I wanted to curl up into the foetal position in my cosy bed and let the blanket envelope me along with imminent sleep, I wanted to cast out the sunlight that felt like it was penetrating my eyes, and, most importantly, I wanted to happen across an abundance of aspirin to drown everything out, including thoughts of Damon Salvatore. To rain on my parade even further, the previous night's debaucheries on the makeshift dance floor were eating away at my barely-functioning brain.

I groaned, resolving to never drink again, knowing deep, deep, _deep_ down that my efforts would be put to waste. Instead, I threw my arm over my squinting eyes and closed them tightly, blacking out the pressing sun that was creeping idly up the horizon. This dreadful morning paired with my awful mood made the sunrise look crappy in my eyes, whereas any other morning I would blissfully watch as it reached it's apex.

I sighed and took a deep breath. Jeremy was miraculously absent from his bed this morning. Mum said he was up early to catch up on some woodwork project in class, which he'd explained that he'd missed the beginning of since we hadn't resided here during the start of it.

That was all well and good, except for one probing detail –Jeremy didn't take woodwork as an option.

Of course, I didn't tell mum this pressing factor. She would have shat a brick and she'd already got enough on her plate, what with moving and all. If Jeremy wanted to ruin his life with drinking, drugs and lies –oh my!– then he could continue to do so. I wasn't going to manipulate and control his life, he had to take responsibility and make his own decisions without an instructions manual or handbook to refer to for help. A.K.A. me

He hadn't always been a bad kid. In fact, he had been better off than most. That is until dad died. We'd both changed since then, for better or for worse. I was the stuck-up bitch type before dad died, whilst Jer was the laid-back, goody-goody –Daddy's boy. I resented Jeremy back then –why couldn't mum and dad appraise me for my achievements? It'd always been "Jer this" and "Jer that", but never Elena… I guess I was a smidgen bit metaphorically blind back then, because they had appraised me, loved me and cherished me. I was just too stuck-up to acknowledge this. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents and Jer, and will continue to do so, and I wasn't always a total bitch –just your average teenaged girl, I guess, with all flaws and ostentatious behaviour included.

With a heavy sigh, I shrugged on my white cardigan, leaving it unbuttoned, and smoothed down my creased denim shorts that had risen up my thighs slightly.

Today, the sky was a brilliant blue and void of any oppressing clouds. The exact opposite of how I felt. It was slightly breezy –hence the cardigan- but I was embracing the sun open armed for once.

As I slipped my hand around the car door handle and tugged lightly, I looked up and realised that a light blue vintage Chevrolet Camaro SS convertible was parked pretentiously close to my car –my baby- effectively blocking me in.

_Fuck my life._

Intending to give the owner of the beautiful car a piece of my mind, I clambered out of the passenger side door of my own, noticing for the first time who the owner of the offending vehicle was.

And who else would that be other than Damon-ever-fucking-present-Salvatore.

_Is he stalking me?_ I thought spitefully.

Muttering under my breath all the while, I sauntered over to the offending vehicle, but before I got the chance to give a piece of my mind to Damon, something hard knocked into me, effectively forcing the air out of my constricted lungs.

I groaned as I collided with the body, exclaiming a string of profanities as I groped my boob. That shit hurt…

When I was young and unflattering, I was a flat chested child and despised it. I was one of the 'late bloomers'. Whilst girls proudly strutted their first padded bras and bragged how they were 'women' for having started their oh-so-womanly periods, I was left in the wings, sulking may I add. Multiple hissy fits were threw due to these _dire_ circumstances and now I was a proud representative of a perky pair of C-cups, that is until this perpetrator decided to invade my personal space whilst I was in the midst's of a killing spree –_Damon's _killing spree- and just had to hurt my two poor babies. I wouldn't be surprised if they decided to concave due to the force they bumped into me with, and so I looked down like the crazy individual I am to make sure that they were still intact.

They were, thankfully.

Expecting Damon to be the perpetrator that collided with me, I fumed, "Of course it had to be you, yet again, who _has_ to fuck up my tits."

When there was a long silence, punctuated with a slight stuttering noise, I looked up with a sour face and gaped, because this sure as hell wasn't Damon Salvatore standing before me. No, this was an astonishingly tall boy with a mane of golden bronze hair matted to his sculpted head.

I blushed furiously and inwardly cursed myself for my lack of filter as he mashed his lips together, trying to refrain from erupting with laughter. With wide doe eyes and almost incomprehensible mumbles falling from my mouth, I extended my hand to him, muttering "Elena" and "Sorry" as I did so.

"Stefan." He said, but I was in a daze.

"Stefan?" I questioned blankly.

"Yeah, that's my name…" He sniggered.

"Oh."

_Way to go, Elena. _

And as cliché as it sounds, I literally wanted to be swallowed up by a black hole on the spot.

"Listen, I'm sorry for near flattening you out there. I was trying to open this goddamn timetable." He gestured towards the mentioned timetable lamely before continuing. "I'm new here, you see. You wouldn't happen to know where room…" He squinted down at his timetable, his black square framed glasses just about hanging onto the jut on the bridge of his nose, "64 is, would you?"

"Uh, I'm sort of a newbie here myself, so…"

Before I could finish speaking, a sharp and abrupt voice sounded from directly behind me, "It's between rooms 63 and 65."

It's Damon, of course, and my anger flared as I remembered that I needed to give him a piece of my mind.

"I see," Stefan said emotionlessly, "I'll see you around, Elena." And then he was retreating back the way he came, walking backwards a couple of steps with his eyes lingering on Damon and myself. He scurried back to the main building and dispersed into the growing crowd of students.

I sort of felt bad for him.

Spinning on my heel to face Damon, I folded my arms defensively across my chest, "Well, that was rude of you."

"Why, thank you." He bowed and winked at me, a crude smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

Pretending I was oblivious to his panty dropping smirk, I rolled my eyes skyward and wagged my finger at him accusingly, "You're a dick."

He raised his eyebrows at my remark and chuckled, "Watch it, Gilbert, a potty mouth like yours won't be getting you any job tomorrow afternoon." He winked at my astounded expression.

_Looks like telling him my name at his party last night was a waste of time if he's going to continue calling me Gilbert… _

"Listen," I sighed, trying to keep my cool, "do us both a favour and park your car elsewhere. I couldn't open the driver door an inch today and I doubt you would appreciate your car covered in scratches with my door scraping it every time I open it."

"Ah, yes, sorry about that. You see, I just wanted a peek of the Elena snooze-fest before school." He snickered, a snide sneer on his face. Of course, he was referring to the fact that I was thinking about my worsening hangover and Jeremy's evasive behaviour with my eyes closed, "It helps get me into the right mind-set for the day." He added, tapping his temple when he saw my enraged expression.

_I was only resting my eyes!_ I wanted to shout.

"Fuck you." I cursed instead.

"Do you kiss your father with that mouth?" He retorted smugly.

My face fell simultaneously at his comeback and my stomach dropped, my knees turning into the consistency of jelly. They shook underneath the weight of my body.

_Dad…_

I inhaled deeply and clenched my jaw, biting my lip until I tasted blood. I felt cold as the blood drained from my face. What was worse than the overwhelming grief that seeped through me so abruptly was the brimming anger inside of me. I could suddenly see red everywhere. _Red, red, red._

_Don't blame him_, I thought, trying to defuse the situation, _he doesn't know about Dad. I mean, how could he?_

I flung my bag higher up on my shoulder and tried to battle through my traitorous tears.

"Just move your car, okay?" I sniffed, trying to repress the tears. I would _not _cry in front of Damon Salvatore. With this thought in mind, I pushed passed him with slumped shoulders and a bowed head. He blocked me instantaneously, of course.

"What'd I say wrong?"

_Don't blame him. Don't blame him. _I recited my mantra several times before taking a deep, cleansing breath to calm my nerves and the boiling anger that was threatening to spill over.

"Nothing, Damon, I'm late for class, that's all." I pushed passed him roughly and continued my trek towards first lesson with my head in a worse state than when I initially started the day, which I admit was pretty bad. The effects of the hangover seemed to vanish as I was subjected to visions of dad pre-accident. Damon Salvatore had opened a vault that I'd long since locked.

* * *

As soon as I arrived home that evening, I leapt up the stairs to my bedroom and flung myself at my bed. As I lay there, sprawled out and entangled in my blanket, I snuck my hand inside my pillowcase to retrieve a picture of my dad and me.

The picture illustrated the last holiday we had had with him before he was cruelly stolen from us. He was grinning hugely at the camera as I cheekily squinted back at the camera besides him. My grin was spread from ear-to-ear and my eyes were closed from the blinding flash of the cameras light. I was encircled in his warm embrace as he crouched down beside the eleven-year-old version of me.

Turning the card over, I read the scruffy scrawl that was his handwriting on the back of the photograph and wiped away a stray tear that was cascading down my cheek with the back of my hand.

_Mischievous Elena… Like father, like daughter, June 2008_, it read.

I sighed, rubbing my thumb over my father's words. In the corner of the page there were two imprints of lips in a bright red lipstick. One was smaller in size than the other and I smiled at the memory.

I'd been dressing up in mum's fancy clothing, applying layer upon layer of crimson red lipstick to my tiny lips, when dad had come home after getting the photos developed after our holiday abroad. He'd brandished this exact photograph to me and wrote the note before me. Giggling gleefully at his cheeky words after assessing what he'd wrote, I'd bent down and kissed the corner of the photograph, smearing lipstick stained lips onto it. He'd laughed at my shocked expression and took the small stick from my hands and painted a line on each of his pouted lips. After pressing his lips to the photo, he'd kissed me sloppily on the forehead. Screeching as I scraped at the stickiness on my forehead, I had flung myself at him and kissed every inch of his face until he was also smeared in various shades of red from the intensity I'd kissed him with.

I blinked down at the photograph, more tears forming in my eyes. I wiped them away hastily with the back of my hand and clenched my jaw.

_No._

There would be no more weakness. I was a strong woman. Dad had died years ago, I had to move on. That's what he'd have wanted.

With a newfound sense of determination, I straightened my posture and brought the picture to my lips. Pressing my lips gently to the larger of the kisses, the one that belonged to dad, I smiled before enclosing the endearing photograph into my pillowcase once again.

Laying my head atop the pillow in reference, I closed my eyes and let my mind drift.

I hadn't spoken to or acknowledged Damon for the remainder of the day after the mentioning of my father. He'd tried to grasp my attention of course; shouting my name down the corridor as he weaved through the bodies to get me, passing me notes in Chemistry and getting Caroline to ask me what he'd done or said wrong. Henceforth, I'd also avoided Caroline, since she kept badgering me about it.

Slipping from the bed, I reached into my denim shorts pocket and retrieved the note Damon and myself had exchanged during Chemistry, reading it inwardly.

_**What did I do to offend you? **__–Damon._

I had sighed, snatching the paper from between his outstretched fingers before scrawling on the back.

_**Forget about it. **__–Elena._

Of course, he wouldn't let it go.

_**If you don't tell me what I've done wrong, I'll be blindly apologising and it won't be sincere. **__–Damon._

I snickered quietly to myself and shook my head wordlessly.

_**Since when did you start apologising for wrongdoings? **__–Elena._

Damon had pressed his pencil to the crowded scrap paper and began to write his response. His brow had crinkled for a second as he inspected what he'd written. Frowning, he'd scribbled out what he'd written and wrote something besides it instead. I'd watched attentively, my interest piqued, as he wrote. After a handful of seconds, he'd inconspicuously slid the note towards me across the lab table.

_**Ah, so you've admitted that I've done something wrong. **__–Damon._

Distantly, I thought I saw the words _"since you arrived"_ written in a neat cursive above the note, but the harsh scribbles of his pencil made it somewhat indecipherable. How had I not noticed this earlier?

I didn't reply after his response.

Rubbing my eyes, I placed the note in a textbook on my dresser before drudging back to my bed, tugging back the comforter before climbing in.

I needed my beauty sleep to get my thoughts in order. After all, I had my interview the following day with the devil himself.

* * *

I dusted off my grey pencil skirt and smoothed down the front of my maroon jumper. The skirt belonged to my beloved mother, since my wardrobe consisted of jeans, sweats and not-so-formal skirts –no work material– and she wouldn't allow me to attend the interview in sweats, god forbid. We'd compromised that I would get the choice of the upper-body clothing and she'd paired it with one of her own variety of formal pencil skirts. I was somewhat taller than my mother and so the skirt stopped short just above my knees. Flat suede shoes adorned my feet, the exact shade of maroon as my jumper. My hair was pulled up into a messy bun –much to my mother's dismay- but it was _Damon_ that would be interviewing me and it was only for a tiny job as a waitress, nothing huge to fawn about.

Sucking in a sharp breath of air, I brought my clenched fist to the door of Damon's office of sorts and tapped once, twice, three times. There was a shuffling of paperwork and the faint sound of someone clearing their throat before a husky, deep voice, filled with sensuality, rang from the other side of the mahogany door, "Come in."

And so I did.

Tugging on the door handle, I opened the door and superiorly strut into the confined room with a smile plastered to my face. As I approached his desk, I extended my hand to Damon as if I hadn't the slightest idea who he was. "Good evening, Mr Salvatore."

* * *

**A/N- I'm not overly pleased with the way this chapter turned out, but hey-ho. Last chapter, I mentioned the fact that I was **_**thinking**_** about the interview being in this chapter, but as it turns out, I changed my mind. Technically, it sort of is in this chapter although only a snippet, so it **_**will**_** continue from this point in the next chapter. Despite me not being pleased with this chappie, I hope you are! Thank you for all of your favourites, follows and all of your encouraging reviews, it generally means a lot to me. Oh, and what do you guys think of Stefan? I'm team Damon at heart, but I guess I tolerate Stefan;)**


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

_I dusted off my grey pencil skirt and smoothed down the front of my maroon jumper. The skirt belonged to my beloved mother, since my wardrobe consisted of jeans, sweats and not-so-formal skirts –no work material– and she wouldn't allow me to attend the interview in sweats, god forbid. We'd compromised that I would get the choice of the upper-body clothing and she'd paired it with one of her own variety of formal pencil skirts. I was somewhat taller than my mother and so the skirt stopped short just above my knees. Flat suede shoes adorned my feet, the exact shade of maroon as my jumper. My hair was pulled up into a messy bun –much to my mother's dismay- but it was _Damon_ that would be interviewing me and it was only for a tiny job as a waitress, nothing huge to fawn about._

_Sucking in a sharp breath of air, I brought my clenched fist to the door of Damon's office of sorts and tapped once, twice, three times. There was a shuffling of paperwork and the faint sound of someone clearing their throat before a husky, deep voice, filled with sensuality, rang from the other side of the mahogany door, "Come in."_

_And so I did. _

_Tugging on the door handle, I opened the door and superiorly strut into the confined room with a smile plastered to my face. As I approached his desk, I extended my hand to Damon as if I hadn't the slightest idea who he was. "Good evening, Mr Salvatore."_

His gaze didn't miss a beat as he swept his eyes over me, from the messy bun atop my head to the shoes that adorned my feet. He gazed at me pensively, his lips pursed, "What are you doing?"

Put off by his calculating expression and unforgiving eyes, I frowned slightly, before replying imperviously, "I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

Toying with Damon had quickly become one of my favourite pastimes, and seeing his befuddled –yet undoubtedly attractive- face now formed a devious smile on my lips. Biting down into my bottom lip to supress the urge to smile and give myself away, I subconsciously tucked a non-existent stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"_That,_" He admonished, taking in a ragged breath, "That right there. What's with all of the formalities? After all, I've seen you clad in a sparse bikini…" He trailed on, winking at my astounded expression, "But now that I think about it, I've got to admit that I rather like it when you call me sir."

Closing my mouth and shaking my head, I clenched my jaw, "Whatever," I sneered as he leant back in his chair and clasped his hands together in front of him, his blue orbs drinking in my attire for the evening, yet again. He was most likely used to the scuffed jeans I'd been wearing for the majority of the week, excluding the night of his party… "Well, are you going to invite me to sit down or are you just going to continue to eye-fuck me? Is that informal enough, _sir_?" I spoke nonchalantly, folding my arms across my chest and raising my eyebrows indignantly.

"Be my guest." He smirked deviously, ignoring my sour attitude and sassy tone.

Rolling my eyes, I headed over to his cluttered desk before plopping myself in the plush chair adjacent to him, propping my arms on his desk.

Awkwardly, I fiddled with my fingers as he just sat there –staring.

I gulped.

_So much for getting a grip of myself last night…_

After a couple of seconds, he leant forward, resting his head atop his clasped hands. He had that look about him; the one that makes a girl drop her panties for him, but I sure as well wouldn't succumb to him. I wasn't exactly oblivious to his charm and good-looks, but his snarky attitude ruined almost everything for me –almost. He had that same devilish smile plastered to his lips. _His lips…_

_Damn!_

"Resume?"

"Hmm…?"

"Did you bring your resume?" He asked, annunciating each syllable independently. His grin was growing like he knew what I was thinking.

I internally pleaded with the heavens that he couldn't read my mind.

"Uh, yeah," I muttered distractedly, reaching into my glossy black handbag to retrieve it.

Blushing despite myself, I handed it to him.

_Oh God, I don't want him to know anything about me…_

"So, you've worked in a restaurant before?" He enquired, flicking through the pages with a look of actual interest on his face.

I nodded my head impishly.

"And what unique attributes do you think you can bring to our business?" He pressed after a few moments. His eyes were alight as he continued to scan my resume, his interest piqued.

Taking a deep breath, I replied my rehearsed answer, pleased with his astounded expression once I'd finished.

"Why did you leave your previous workplace?"

"I moved to a different place of residency."

"Was there a reason for this?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

I bit my lip, ducking my head.

There were a couple seconds of silence, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room ricocheting about the quaint office.

"Elena," Damon's soft voice broke the heavy silence, the gentleness in his voice made me jump slightly and I looked up at him with wide doe eyes, "why did you get all worked up and evasive yesterday after what I said in the parking lot?"

I chuckled internally. He was technically asking the same question that I was so intent on avoiding.

I shook my head, casting my eyes downwards.

It wasn't as if I was just going to spill my guts about dad; trust is not something you just handover, it needs to be earned.

"Did I say something wrong; something to offend you perhaps?" He pressed on, his brows furrowing in concern.

"It's none of your concern, Damon. It was nothing." I tried to reassure him, but my façade was probably transparent.

His warm, calloused, hand found mine across the table, enveloping my own with ease. My intake of breath was audible and my reddening cheeks were vivid. He squeezed my hand comfortingly, "At least we can add a terrible liar to your list of attributes." He winked, trying to lighten the mood.

I smiled unwillingly and he squeezed my hand once more before releasing it, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Okay, that's enough." He exhaled, casting my resume off to the side.

"Excuse me?"

_Was he rejecting me so quickly? Was the interview _that _bad?_ An abundance of discouraging thoughts ran rampant in my head, causing me to frown dejectedly.

Noticing my dispirited expression, he was quick to reassure me, "_No._ No, not like that, Elena. All I meant was that I don't need to hear anymore; I'm hiring you."

My mouth popped open into a little 'o' of astonishment, "Seriously?" I grinned, jumping out of my seat exuberantly.

"Seriously."

I nearly squealed.

_Nearly._

"I could kiss you right now, Damon." I squeaked, an enveloping grin spreading from ear-to-ear.

Damon's eyebrows shot up in surprise and I threw my hand over my mouth. Damn my lack of filter! "I-I didn't mean that…"

_Fuck my life. Fuck my life… _

"I'm sure you'd be a great kisser, Miss Gilbert," He smirked, puckering his lips at me and making obnoxious kissy noises, "but I'm not one for kissing."

I raised my eyebrows in shock, "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

I blushed and shook my head. My internal goddess was clearly disappointed, but I quickly dispelled this thought and retrieved my handbag off of the ground.

"I best get going then." I mumbled, zipping up my handbag before fixing it on my shoulder.

"Let me escort you." He said, pushing himself out of his seat. Within two short strides he was at the door, holding it ajar. Courteously, he gestured for me to leave. "After you."

Smiling up at him, I gingerly shimmied through the small gap and realised something. "Wait-" I started, but was cut off when I spun on my heel to realise that he was directly behind me. With his face inches from mine, I inhaled sharply before clearing my suddenly dry throat. I felt clammy all over, "Aren't you supposed to call me or something and not flat out tell me that I'm hired? Shouldn't there have been more interrogation and questioning? Not that I'm complaining or anything, but aren't you at least required to confer with your father about hiring me?" I breathed.

If I as so much as tilted my head forward a fraction of an inch, the tips of our noses would collide and our lips would be brushing slightly.

_Too bad he doesn't kiss…_

"This isn't some criminal investigation, Elena, I'm not interrogating you for murder," He chuckled softly. His minty breath blew across my face and I inhaled deeply, my chest pushing outwards. I immediately regretted my reaction to him as my breasts brushed up against his chest and I shivered involuntarily. He froze and inhaled harshly with clenched teeth, before distancing himself from me with a long stride backwards. I averted my eyes downwards, but flashed my eyes up to meet his slanted ones when he continued speaking with a clearing of his throat, "That would be normal adequate, yes, but I'm known for breaking the rules, Elena. And, besides, we're low on staff, so I'm sure my father would be more than pleased to have you aboard our colleagues." He spoke hoarsely, his voice raspy and sultry, and I was still blinking up at him with a dazed and lustful expression etched onto my face. Luckily, the straining material of my jumper was much too thick for him to notice my pebbled nipples and I sighed in relief. My chest concaved with my exhalation and I momentarily relaxed.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I breathed, averting my gaze to the polished, wooden, floor.

I nodded my head once in a farewell gesture before turning back around, skittering towards the door that would lead me back to the bar area.

As I pushed on the door, I turned my head back towards Damon to see that he was still standing in the same position as before. I smiled, "See you around, Damon."

"We'll call you shortly to discuss your schedule." He said in farewell, before swiftly re-entering his office.

Shaking my head at his eagerness to depart, I sidestepped Matt who was working the bar and strutted over to Caroline who was juggling an abundance of dirty dishes precariously on her arms.

"Hey, you." I smiled dandily at her, rolling on the balls of my feet sweetly.

After evading Caroline the previous day for her inquisition about being sour with Damon, she was all for evading _me _suddenly. It was starting to rub me up the wrong way, and what with me being overly unapologetic, I wasn't usually the type to apologise, obviously. But since Caroline was typically the only friend I had in this oppressive town, I was more than willing to mend our broken bonds for once.

Unsurprisingly, she blatantly disregarded me without even a glance in my direction, deciding instead to pad towards the bar with the plates and cutlery still wedged in her petite arms.

_This insufferable girl is wearing my patience thin, _I thought acrimoniously.

Exhaling, I tried again, "Listen, Caroline, I'm sorry for avoiding you lately. It's just, I've been… distracted. I _know_ I'm not really good at this friend thing and that it's not an excuse, but I am trying my best here and I'd appreciate it if you…"

My incessant rambling was interrupted by Caroline's arms being flung around my neck, the stack of dishes piled high on the bar counter now. "Elena," She whimpered, "I'm _so _sorry for ignoring you. How was the interview? Did you get the job? Was he nice to you?" She inquired as she pulled back and stared at me contemplatively.

"Wow," I chastised, "slow down. The interview was interesting to say the least, yes he was partially polite to me, and yes I got the job." I smirked at the last part.

Caroline squealed exuberantly and flung her arms around my neck, yet again, "Tell me all about it."

* * *

After battling through another one of Caroline's incessant babblings, we parted ways with a hug and a promise to _'chillax'_ with one another after school the following day.

Her words, not mine.

And after I clambered out of the shower that night, I padded across the landing towards my room, clad in only a fluffy white towel. I tied my damp hair up into a knotted ponytail and fumbled in my pyjama drawer for something to wear for bed. That was when there was a knock on my bedroom door.

Pulling on my underwear and tightening the towel evermore securely around me, I called out for them to, "Come on in!"

Slowly, the door creaked open on its hinges, reminding me that it needed oiling. "Hey, Jer." I grinned when I saw my brother standing awkwardly on the other side of the door.

He smiled timidly in return and held up a scrunched black tee in his fisted hands. Not just any black tee…

_Damon's _black tee from the party the other night.

_Fuck!_

"Mum put this in my drawer; she must have thought it was mine, but I've never seen this in my life." He explained. His eyes were trained on me.

I gulped instinctively and reached forward to snatch it out of his greedy little hands, "Give it to me." I snarled when he swiped it back before my hands could gain purchase of the fabric.

"Whose is it?" He glared disapprovingly.

I scoffed at his remark and crossed my arms over my chest, "_You_ don't get to ask that. Besides, don't think that I don't know for a second about your recent escapades." I warned, pointing my finger at him accusingly and giving him 'the stare'.

He knew immediately what I was talking about. He'd been lying to mum about attending woodwork class and he'd most probably been drinking with his 'friends' and generally getting himself into trouble.

His nostrils flared and before I knew it, he was stalking out of the room and the t-shirt was left sprawled on the hardwood floor in his wake.

Bending down stiffly, I retrieved it and brought it to my nose. It still had Damon's scent lingering on it. A divine mixture of aftershave, peppermint and leather. I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling of it and debating whether to wear it.

_What the hell, _I thought resignedly.

Peeling the shirt open, so that it was no longer scrunched up in a ball, I brought the tee over my head and slipped my arms into the sleeves, letting my towel crumple to the floor. His scent surrounded me.

And I felt like a complete stranger to myself for my oddball behaviour, but I didn't care.

Sleepy and dazed by the feel of a part of Damon on my skin, I trudged towards my bed with a hopeful smile painted on my face.

I slept soundlessly that night, not subjected to visions of dad's accident.

* * *

**A/N- Not exactly the longest update, but I just wanted to get something out there for you guys. Hope you enjoyed! Who else is literally counting down the days till season 6? Eeek, I can't wait! **


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N- So this carries on from where we left off last chapter… Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 6:**

I shot up from my bed with a gasp on my lips, my limbs a tangled mess in the thin sheets of my bed. My hair was pasted to my neck and forehead and my heart was pounding relentlessly in my chest. Damon's t-shirt, that I'd spent the night in, was lopsided on my shoulder, revealing the edge of my black laced bra. But the sticky sweat that covered my body wasn't what had awoken me. No, I owed that to the obnoxious shrill of music –if you could call it that- drifting from Jeremy's room.

I was panting and disorientated and, looking over towards my nightstand, I realised it was nearly time to get up for school.

Leaning over to flick on my bedside lamp, I peeled the comforter from my body and threw my legs over the edge of the bed.

No, I hadn't been subjected to visions of Dad's accident last night. I'd been subjected to dreams far worse.

Damon. Damon making me whimper with pleasure beneath him, and then on top of him, and then-

_Oh my God! _

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to rid the disparaging thoughts from my mind. Damon was dick –a sexy dick, but a dick all the same. He was insufferable, overpowering and he had a reputation to boot.

Sure, I was sexually attracted to him and had plenty of lustful thoughts of him… and me, but that didn't mean anything. Everybody has dreams of the sexual nature in which incongruous things happen with people we are not attached to in real life.

As I fumbled with my willowy off-the-shoulder coral top and dark jeans that I'd chosen for the day, Jeremy casually strolled into my room. With my mouth agape, I slipped my jeans past my thighs, hastily slid the zipper up and folded my arms across my chest.

"Are you incapable of knocking?" I spoke patronisingly, folding my arms across my chest. It wasn't exactly like he was peeving on me or anything, but whilst I was getting dressed I would have liked the decency of some privacy.

"Sorry," He apologised, but he didn't really sound sincere, "just thought I'd tell you that your cars not starting up."

"What?" I panicked, my eyebrows furrowing in concern. I'd only had the car for just over a year, but I'd bought it second-hand and I was willing to wager a bet that the previous owner had purchased it second-hand as well, and the one before that and the one before that and so on so forth.

I dropped my arms to my sides and stalked past him towards the stairs, taking them two at a time, and calling out behind me, "Why were you in my car anyways?" Of course, Jeremy hesitantly followed suite, handing me the car keys as I fumbled with the locks on the front door.

"Mum told me to start the car up and turn the air-con on," He stated, following my every footstep like an errant child, "She said there was going to be a heat wave or something like that." He tagged on dismissively.

And sure enough the car churned unhealthily as I inserted the key. Jeremy muttered an "I told you so," from where he was leaning on the window besides me. He was grinning superiorly, and I wanted to slap the smirk off of his smug face.

Instead, I slammed the palm of my hand against the steering column and groaned in despair.

"Crap!" I cursed, and ran a hand through my hair, defeated. I could faintly hear mums disapproving admonishment at my cursing from the kitchen. As if by some miracle the car would magically roar back to life, I took the key out of the ignition, glared at it for a second, before jamming it back in again; nothing. It spluttered and wheezed for a moment, before idling back out.

"Mum said she'd give us a ride to school, but we'll have to make our own way back since she's in work." Jeremy said by way of explanation. Jeremy took a step back as I swung the door open and leapt to my feet, letting the car door slam shut behind me. My sombre expression and pouted lips must have made him feel bad as he added reassuringly, "I'm sure Tyler or one of my other friends could give us a ride home, or at least drop us off at the mechanics."

I nodded my head in thanks and smiled at him appreciatively.

Jeremy could be a good brother. When he wanted to be, of course.

Fifteen minutes later and mum was slipping the old, yellow, coiled telephone back into the cradle. She had called up the local mechanics repair shop and towing company and they'd be here within the next six hours, since we didn't have any ideas as to how to jumpstart a car between us. Consequently, mum had begrudgingly allowed me to skip school for the day as she needed to be at the hospital and wouldn't be here to sign the paperwork for the car.

I, on the other hand, was smug with my mother's decision. I didn't want to face Damon after the awkward interview and last night's dream. It would be tense and uncomfortable on my behalf, even if he didn't have an inkling of a clue as to what I was acting so paranoid about.

Yes, I'd be terrified the entire time that he was telepathic and could somehow read my mind. How pathetic I am…

An upside to skipping school was that I finally got around to finishing unpacking the remainder of my boxes. With my room finally prim and proper, I sprawled my textbooks across my bed and began revising for the pop quiz I had next week.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, at precisely 2:15pm, and I was cooped up in the small confines of the repair shops' waiting room. Due to the lack of air-conditioning, I was sweltering; even the window sheathed walls were foggy with condensation.

After filling in the pages upon pages of paperwork and then double-checking them out of utter boredom, I'd reverted to flicking through the glossy columns of the old magazines piled high on the coffee table at my feet.

Jeremy called, twice, to inform me that he and his friend would pick me up after they'd finished school at three, but they still hadn't showed up half an hour later at 3:30pm.

Mum was right, as always. It was dizzyingly hot and the receptionist of sorts –whom I'd been informed was an intern- was sipping agonisingly slowly on her small plastic cup of chilled water. I felt myself salivating at the sight of the refreshment and when she caught me staring, she deliberately licked her studded lips. Referring to ignoring her petty display, I internally reprimanded myself for not bringing a bottle of water with me. Now, I'd been forced to pay the price.

I slammed the magazine I'd been reading shut and placed it on the empty leather seat beside me. None of the headlines had really captured my attention, so, as it neared 3:45pm, I retorted to playing _Flappy Bird_ on my phone. The stupid bird just kept dying every time I neared my high score. After narrowly dodging one of the fluorescent green pipes, the bird fell to the floor with a low crashing sound. I cursed at the unknown number that had popped up on my screen and ruined my buzz, the trill of the ringtone making me jump in the unorthodox silence.

Maybe Jeremy's phone had died and he had borrowed his friends to apologize for his tardiness? I pondered the possibilities for a second before answering curiously.

"Hello?" I said into the receiver. My voice was filled with condemnation and an airy drowsiness. After all, I'd been engaged with studying, assignments and labouring away at my bedroom all day long. Not to mention the pesky nuisance that was _Flappy Bird. _

"Why weren't you in school today?"

I sighed. Of course, Damon gets straight to the point.

I dodge his question with one of my own, "How did you get my digits?"

I was convinced that I had not given him my number, so how in the world had he acquired it? My thoughts immediately drifted to that of Caroline and how she'd bent over backwards just to get me to speak with him…

I heard the frustrated intake of breath before he replied sourly, "I got it from your resume. Now, are you going to answer my question or are you going to continue to blatantly ignore me?"

"I'm not ignoring you." I scoffed.

"Elena…" He spoke condescendingly. I could almost imagine him rubbing his hand down his face in exasperation and my girly parts quivered in delight at the imagery and the way his tongue caressed my name as he spoke. My thoughts drifted to that of Damon and the blissful dream in which he'd starred in, yet again.

"Fine," I breathed in defeat, "my car wouldn't start this morning, so I had to get it towed and fill out forms and stuff. I didn't know when or _if_ the towing company would show, so I was forced to bunk off of school to loiter about for them. "

He didn't say anything for a handful of seconds, and just when I suspected that he had hung up on me, he added, "Where are you?" He sounded thoughtful and relieved, like he had expected me to have ditched school in spite of him.

It suddenly dawned on me what he'd said just moments ago. I must have blanked out or something with all of the questions he'd been firing left, right and centre at me. Had he really gone through all of the trouble of driving to the Grill to get my resume, just so that he could call me?

_Wow._

"I-I'm at the repair shop." I muttered dumbly.

"You've been there all day?!" He blanched, appalled.

Damn, he was so domineering. It was sort of annoying, but a complete turn on at the same time.

"No," I said cynically, rolling my eyes skyward, "I got here around two hours ago, but Jeremy was supposed to pick me up nearly an hour ago."

"And he hasn't showed." It wasn't a question; it was more of a statement.

"Nope."

"I'll be there in five."

"Damon, I-"

And _then_ he cut me off.

* * *

Sure enough, six minutes later Damon's blue Camaro screeched to a halt outside the repair shop. The brilliant sun was shining down on me and my eyes were closed against its piercing rays. I'd shimmied down my coral top, exposing both of my shoulders to its rays in hopes of catching a natural tan. I winced at the harsh noise that broke my reverie, and sighed with my back pressed against the brick wall of the building and my leg propped up behind me.

Squinting my eyes in the direction of Damon's car and cupping my hands over them to better see him, I propelled myself off of the wall and made my way over to him.

The roof of the convertible was down today and as I neared him, I voiced my faux irritation at him, "You're late."

"By a minute."

I shrugged indifferently, "Late is late."

He glared at me for a moment, before sighing and effectively concaving to my stubbornness.

"Fine," He complied, "Now get your goddamn ass in the car, Elena."

I was officially having fun teasing him, now.

I'd had a stressful and mediocre day so far, and I needed some form of recreational fun. That fun came in the form of Damon.

I folded my arms across my chest defiantly once I reached his Camaro, "Goddamn ass?" I smirked, "I could have sworn you said I had a cute ass." I winked for affect as I fiddled with a piece of my hair absentmindedly.

He was seething.

I was turned on.

"Just get in the car." He sighed.

I snorted.

_Very unladylike, Elena, _I chastised myself.

"Or what?" I challenged him, raising my eyebrows. At my words, his head lolled back onto the headrest and he closed his eyes in annoyance. I sort of felt bad for teasing him in that moment, but all thoughts were swept away when I regrettably added, "You gonna make me?" I was smirking as I rhetorically asked him this in a sickly sweet voice, rolling on the balls of my feet as I did, but my smile faltered when he froze for a moment.

His head flopped forward and he was staring at me now with his signature smirk intact, his eyes were slanted and all sorts of sexy. He shot me another mischievous smirk and then he was strolling casually towards me with a sense of purpose. His car door slammed with a resounding _thump_, making me jump in fright. Suddenly, I didn't feel too bold anymore. In fact, I felt quite the opposite.

As he neared me, scuffing the heel of his black boots on the stony tarmac as he did, I registered myself taking a step back. My eyes darted everywhere in fright as he neared me before settling on his penetrating, blue eyes. Every deliberate step he took, I matched with two automatic strides backwards.

I was heaving and my eyes were wide, and his breaths were shallow, his eyes calculating my every move.

I only made it a few more steps before I was suddenly airborne. His arms snaked around my hips and held me tightly against him. All of the air left my lungs as his shoulder collided with my chest, and I found myself tossed over said shoulder, my top slipping up my back to expose the fastening of my bra. His hand slithered down from my hips, sensually tracing the pattern of my bones and skin before his fingers found purchase of the inner part of my thigh, directly below my heated core. I had to bite my lip to refrain from groaning aloud. Especially when his fingers began tracing small, smoothing circles there, too. Although, they were far from soothing.

"Damon, put me down." I groaned, resigned. Hopefully, he thought that my groaning was of annoyance rather than pleasure. I wasn't going to be one of those awfully cliché girls who thrashed and screamed profanities, when in reality they were most likely enjoying the view.

I sure as hell was. Damon had a mighty fine ass and I sure as hell wasn't afraid to ogle it since he couldn't see me.

"Not a chance in hell, darling." He sniggered. And then he spanked my ass with the hand that wasn't already drawing delicious patterns into my skin.

_He fucking spanked me!_

I squealed in surprise, but then I was sitting upright in the upholstery seat of his car with a permanent scowl etched onto my face.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He grinned.

I couldn't string together a coherent sentence.

_The only thing that was hard was you smacking my goddamn ass!_

This only succeeded in reminding me of a few minutes ago when he'd said the exact same phrase "goddamn ass".

_How ironic, _I mused lamely.

Once he was buckled in besides me, I muttered a "dick" under my breath before turning my body to face out the window, ensuring firstly that he'd heard me.

He chuckled at my response to his assault on me and I referred to ignoring him for the remainder of the journey.

To no avail, of course.

"Sorry to interrupt your possibly murderous daydreams of me, princess, but," He began, casting me a sidelong glance, "I don't have a clue where you live."

"Didn't you look it up on my resume?" I spat, referring to his invasion of my privacy earlier on. He didn't answer and so I begrudgingly gave him the directions to my house before averting my gaze to the window once more to distract myself from my wandering thoughts of Damon, although they were far from murderous…

_My ass hurts…_

"How was your day?" Damon muttered awkwardly over the deafening silence, sighing when I ignored his attempts at casual chit-chat.

My eyes caught sight of the clear bottle of water protruding from the small storage compartment in Damon's car door. A trickle of condensation rolled down the surface of it and I couldn't refrain from asking any longer. "Do you mind?" I asked pensively, gesturing towards the enticing refreshment.

"Be my guest." He replied politely. If only the receptionist at the garage had been as obliging.

Leaning over his legs and under his arms that were clutching the steering wheel tighter and tighter by the second, I shimmied closer around my seatbelt, straining against its confines. My hand accidently on purpose brushed the inner part of his thigh and he inhaled audibly in response. His lips were so close to my ear…

_Revenge is a bitch!_

He leant forward, as if about to brush his lips to my earlobe, but he must have thought twice about it as he quickly readjusted himself and settled back into his seat. My hands finally gained purchase of the water bottle, and after disentangling myself from him I took a healthy swig before clutching the bottle against my heaving chest.

"So," He tried again a few minutes after his first attempt at chatting with me, "I spoke with Giuseppe."

My head immediately snapped to his and my eyes widened in surprise.

"And?" I urged, still squishing the now crushed bottle against my chest.

"Ah, so you've decided that I'm worth listening to now. Although, I am quite offended it was due to the mention of my father." He turned his head towards me for a fraction of a second with a lopsided grin on his face, punctuated with a darn cheeky wink.

"Eyes on the road, Salvatore."

He grinned at my playful behaviour and continued, after focusing his attention back on the road, of course, "He wants me to congratulate you on getting the job," He clarified, his eyes not wavering from the uneven highway ahead of him, "So, congratulations. You'll be starting Monday, and I've obviously confirmed this with Giuseppe –he's quite smitten that you're aboard his members of staff. Arrive at around 5-ish and we'll sort everything out. "

_Monday._

I'd officially be working for Giuseppe Salvatore by Monday. Granted, it was currently a Friday, but that gave me time to prepare.

Throughout the entire exchange –which had only lasted several minutes- Damon was nothing less than civilised. He'd been polite and congratulatory, but he'd also been business-savvy and somewhat formal, as if I was just some colleague, which technically I was, but still. It had annoyed me to no end. I could suddenly relate to Damon's intensely annoyed attitude that he'd maintained due to my formality during the interview that he'd administrated.

Was he trying to infuriate me as I'd not-so-subconsciously him?

As I ascended the steps to the wrap-around porch that surrounded our cosy home, I didn't once turn back to fix Damon with a wave. Of course, I'd thanked him for his generosity, but I barely knew the guy. Besides, it would just be awkward anyways, since I highly doubted he'd return the farewell gesture.

I inserted the key into the door and it flung open with a small _click. _I hung up my jacket on the end of the banister, and just as I turned to close the door I saw Damon speeding back down the street. He honked jeeringly thrice before disappearing out of my view.

* * *

When Jeremy finally returned home from school that evening, I was scanning the refrigerator for something to eat.

The faint sound of the door clicking into place, the resounding _thwack_ of his bag hitting the wooden floor, and the echoing of his heavy footfalls leading to the kitchen signalled his arrival.

"Sorry," was all he said as I pondered on what he'd prefer for tea.

_Decisions, decisions._

"I was held up at school," He continued, "Some punk wouldn't admit to leaving the teacher a very… provocative note. He made us stay behind until someone owned up to it. Nobody did, so I admitted to it."

I spun on my heel at his words, my mouth agape and my hands ensnared around my hips in shock, "You did what?"

On the defensive, Jeremy threw his hands up in an effort to calm me down, "It wasn't even me, Elena. Just think of it as an offering, so that everyone else didn't have to suffer the hour's detention he landed me with."

I shook my head, sighing, "How do you always get yourself into these situations, Jer?"

"I don't know, 'Lena. But I am truly sorry for deserting you. If it's any consolation, Tyler bunked on me after I got out of detention, so I had to walk home."

I suddenly felt sorry for my outburst directed at him, and so I walked the couple of steps towards him and wrapped my arms around his neck. He may have been younger than me, but he was leering above me, so I had to reach up on my tippy-toes to encircle him in my arms.

"It's okay," I mumbled into the crook of his neck, "I got a lift off of a… friend."

In mock horror, he placed his hand over the place where his heart was located in his chest and feigned a gasp, "Elena Gilbert having friends, well I never."

Playfully, I slapped his shoulder and he reeled back a step before laughing carelessly, "How about we go catch up over some ice-cream?"

I grinned up at him. He seemed happy, for once, and I was all for soaking up as much happy moments as I could with Jeremy these days. "I'd love to."

* * *

**A/N- *squeals exuberantly* Am I the only one counting down the days until Friday (since I'm in the UK) for Vampire Diaries? I was hooked from the start, especially with the TWO cliff-hangers in episode 1 and then Damon's little dancing session in episode 2! I'm also anticipating the imminent return of the Originals episode 2 *le sigh*. Anyways, this was sort of a filler chapter, although we did progress further into their relationship what with Damon knowing her digits and where she lives, etc. Thanks to **_**Charlliess**_** for prompting me to update quicker for you guys and conjuring the image of Ian Somerhalder cast as Christian Grey *shivers*. Thank you ALL so much for your kind words of wisdom! Until next time…**


	8. Chapter 7

****A/N- Takes off from where we left off... Enjoy!****

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

After indulging into a scrumptious ice-cream –two scoop raspberry swirl flavour, of course– in the downtown parlour adjacent to the Mystic Grill, Jeremy and I rubbed our bloated tummies to soothe the dull ache of over-consumption.

We'd, begrudgingly, exchanged our less-suitable choice of wardrobe for old sweats and trodden the rather long and tiring journey to the heart of Mystic Falls. Fatigued, we'd ordered an ice-cream at the luridly bright ice-cream parlour, decorated a bright pink and pale shade of blue, to reduce our overbearingly hot body heat. To put it blatantly, we stunk and the sweat patches marring our not-so-extravagant clothing didn't help to divert the untrue fact to bystanders that it wasn't _us_ who actually reeked. Although, it evidently was.

Jeremy released an awfully loud burp and other customers glared at us from behind their ice-cream cones. A tiny boy, with feet barely grazing the floor as he swung them to-and-fro, was giggling manically at Jeremy's outburst whilst trying to juggle his mountain of an ice-cream that was dripping down his dainty hands and all over his dark jeans, to his mother's disapproval. Once she'd audibly tufted towards our little table and shook her head in disdain, she grabbed a handful of napkins and started dabbing at the little boys face, whispering something near his ear. He chuckled at something she had said and continued to obliterate his monstrosity of a melted ice-cream. Subconsciously, I liked the rim of my lips and turned back towards Jeremy, shaking my head to clear my thoughts.

Today had been awful, to say the least. Firstly, I'd awoken to find my car pretty much dead. Secondly, whilst still in a crestfallen mood, I'd had to withhold myself from causing bodily harm to that stupid intern who didn't even have the decency to offer me a refreshment on a sweltering hot day. Then, to top it all off, Damon smacked my ass. I mean, doesn't that shit only happen in movies? I listed each one off on my fingers, ignoring Jeremy's confused expression at my strange gestures. The only redeeming qualities of the day were bonding with Jeremy over some ice-cream, although I did have to trek all of the way there to get it, and officially getting the job at Mystic Grill, although that also ensured that I'd be seeing Damon on a daily basis and, consequently, even more regularly. Overall, I'd had a shitty day and now we had to walk back.

_Great,_ I thought sarcastically, _now I sound like an ungrateful, stuck-up bitch. _

And to add to my already terrible day, Tessa chose that precise moment to cross the street from the Mystic Grill with her overcrowded group of clichés. I knew this because I was seated directly by the wall length windows.

_Fuck my life._

Rubbing my eyes tiredly as they passed the threshold with a soft chime of the overhead bell signalling their arrival, I withheld a yawn and cast my gaze towards the now dank, dark street spotted with streetlights at every interval. One particular probing streetlight was flickering wildly, casting an eerie glow over the deserted sidewalk. Tilting my head slightly, I watched as it flickered in and out of existence, its orange embers causing my thoughts to drift. A movement to the left of the silver posted streetlamp caught my attention and I squinted to get a closer view, leaning forward out of my seat as Jeremy obliviously continued to lap up his ice-cream hungrily. A sudden wave of recognition rolled over me as I realised that the man in question was one that had lately been a recurrence on my mind.

Licking a splodge of raspberry swirl from my finger, I placed my melted ice-cream in the provided metal holder and rose from the plush seat, scooting around the legless table and fumbling through the growing crowd of customers, including Tessa who accidently-on-purpose stuck her leg out for me to trip over. Luckily, I managed to dodge her attempts and hastily dashed across the street.

He was just about to duck down into his car when I bellowed his name, "Giuseppe!"

His gaze flickered to mine for a second, the flashing glow of the streetlamp making it doubly hard for him to put a name to my face, "It's me, Elena."

I slowed down as I neared the sidewalk he was ambling along towards his flashy car.

Recently, Giuseppe had been a probing and incessant thought on my mind. I hadn't even seen him since asking for the job and it was incredibly rude of me not to thank him first-hand for employing me. Of course, I'd thanked Damon, but somehow it was different; he, after all, didn't run the business entirely. That was down to Giuseppe. And so it was only fair that I extended my gratitude to him.

"Oh," He mumbled, his crinkled eyes blinking in obvious recognition against his defined, bushy brows, "Elena, how nice to see you again."

"Likewise," I breathed, blowing a wispy strand of hair from my face, "I'd just like to personally thank you for giving me the job. I really do appreciate the gesture."

"Nonsense, child, it is my pleasure to have you working for me. We've been low on staff since Damon decided to join the business…"

With slanted eyes and I frown on my forehead, I twisted my head to the side and contemplated what he was trying to put forth. Was he referring to Damon as some sort of serial killer, murdering his waiting staff? The absurdity of the thought almost had me rolling on the cracked concrete in unyielding fits of laughter. Instead, with great difficulty, I maintained a straight face and pondered what on earth he was spouting.

Coming up blank, I frowned and shook my head in perplexity, "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

He chuckled throatily, patting my shoulder comfortingly, "No, you wouldn't, dear."

He didn't seem to elaborate any further and so my frown line intensified. He was watching me with a careful eye for a few fleeting seconds, as if looking for something within my eyes. He must have found what he was searching for because he then added, rather blankly, "Damon enjoys hiring and then firing people. He revels in the feeling of power and manipulation. He wants people to flounder about him and do exactly what he says, when he demands and without an ounce of hesitation. He's overly finicky when it comes to hiring…" With his last words resounding in my head, he grinned disarmingly, and my stupefaction grew.

Caroline had mentioned something about Damon only hiring 'pretty things' to look at… Was that what Giuseppe was discreetly trying to say?

"Is that why he doesn't kiss?" I immediately regretted opening my big mouth. I must have sounded so pathetic and clingy. "I mean, he mentioned something along those lines…" I fumbled with my wording, blushing and fawning for what to say. Damn my lack of filter!

His eyebrow rose at my response, his lips mashed together in a hard line. He shook his head to clear it and nodded meekly, "Something like that. You see, in Damon's mind kissing is far too intimate a gesture for someone that he doesn't share a mutual affection with. So, in my mind, I imagine that the day Damon kisses a girl willingly is the day that he admits his feelings for her."

"Feelings?" I echoed faintly, gulping at my forwardness.

Giuseppe's lips curved up at the corners slightly, "The day he falls in love."

We each stood in a deafeningly quiet silence, ironically, me shell-shocked by his words. Surely, that wasn't what you recited to someone you barely met, an acquaintance. That was something you confidentially rehashed to someone you trusted and was well-acquainted with, not by any means the likes of me.

"Anyway," He sighed, shaking his wrist free to check his wristwatch, much the way he'd done the first time I'd met him, "I must be on my way. I've only just returned from my travels and I only came here to check-up on this place whilst it was in Damon's hands." He gestured with his thumb to the Mystic Grill behind him, "It looks in decent shape, if I do say so myself."

I bobbed my head at his statement, swinging my leg back off of the curb until it hit the curved tarmac of the road. My hands were clasped against my abdomen, a small smile on my lips, "Okay. See you around, Mr Salvatore."

"Yes, I'll see you on Monday, Elena. Eight o'clock sharp." I bowed my head in response to his subtle hint not to be late and retreated back to the parlour. Just as I reached the other side of the road, I heard him call out after me, "And for goodness sakes, Elena, call me Giuseppe!"

My lips curved up again into another smile. Giuseppe really was a kind-hearted man, considering I'd only spoken with him twice.

The overhead doorbell chimed as I pushed against the uncharacteristically heavy door with all of the strength my relatively weak arms could muster, making my entrance doubly known as I cursed the stupid thing. Tugging on the long sleeves of my grey hoodie, I impishly cast my eyes downwards until I reached the modern-styled table Jeremy and I had been seated at. Instead of finding Jeremy sitting on his own with an empty cone in his hand, I found an empty ice-cream cone laid on the table top and Jeremy not entirely alone. For perched on his lap was Tessa, her manicured fingers –or should I say claws- scratching in what was supposed to be a seductive manor against poor Jeremy's laugh lines. It only succeeded in making him wince in stoic disbelief.

Jeremy's eyes met mine across the table, a look of utter confusion and pleading evident in his emerald green orbs. His expression made it clear that he _wanted_ help –pronto.

Catching the line of Jeremy's sight, Tessa turned her head to me, winked, and pressed herself up against Jeremy's chest. Her boobs were probably suffocating him!

Ignoring his protests, she purred something into his ear and he flinched away from her. She pouted in rejection, but continued her seduction nonetheless. She began mussing his hair, fiddling with it provocatively. You could see Jeremy stiffen in response to her advances. This was on the verge of becoming too much –notice my sarcasm.

"Tessa," I spat through clenched teeth, deciding that I most definitely needed to intervene. I knew that she was only trying to get back at me for the party and 'stealing' her seat besides Damon in Chemistry, but it obviously still rubbed me up the wrong way. I mean, she was practically about to stick her nasty tongue down his throat. She cast her lazy eyes to mine, smirking at me all innocent like, "would you care to remove yourself from my brother's lap."

Dumbly, her eyes widened in mock shock, "Oh, I had no idea this was your brother, Eleanor."

"My names Elena."

"And I don't give a shit." She said in a sickly sweet voice, her grin not wavering as she jiggled her eyebrows in provocation.

My nostrils flared as she turned back to Jeremy, yet again. "Get the fuck off of my brother." I enunciated each syllable articulately.

And then I lunged.

* * *

I pressed the cold compress against my eye and sighed in relief, also wincing slightly at the pain that only seemed to amplify with the contact.

Tessa may be dumb, but she could sure as hell throw a good swing.

Luckily, so could I.

Although Tessa had managed to shower me with a most probably black eye and multiple other insignificant bruises and cuts from her claws, I'd prevailed and in return given her a chance to get a new nose job. She was in desperate need of one anyways and I'd pointed that out to her before storming out of there.

Opening my eyes –or should I say 'eye'- I peaked at Jeremy and smiled encouragingly, "I'm fine." I nodded, answering his unasked question. He was seated in the breakfast bar stool in front of me, his legs wide open. Earlier, he'd pulled my stool in-between his legs for better access to hold the compress to my face when my arm grew fatigued, the lack of oxygen and influx of lactic acid in my blood making my arm ache. He had held it there for a while, allowing the lactic acid to disperse, hence why his legs were opened to me and I was tucked safely between them.

I groaned in frustration and Jeremy immediately began flustering about me, his hands working in a frenzy to ease the almost non-existent pain, "What's the matter? Where are you hurt? What can I do?"

"Nothing, Jeremy, nothing, I'm fine, really." I tried to subdue him, "I'm just in shock, that's all. I've never done anything like that before, Jer. That wasn't me and I hated myself for doing it."

Tears began pooling in my eyes and cascading down my puffy cheeks. The tears stung my eye, which effectively made me cry even more. Jeremy wiped them away slowly with the pad of his thumbs before encircling me in his embrace, "Sshh," He cooed protectively, "everything will be fine. Everyone gets riled up sometimes, sis. It's not a surprise that you've finally exploded after all these years of pain and torment…" He kissed the top of my head and placed his chin where he'd planted the kiss. "Why don't you go on up to bed. I'll clean this place up and do the dishes."

I nodded my head weakly as he took the now warming compress from my hands and handed me two aspirin and a cold glass of tap water. I downed it and the pills in a few mouthfuls and leaned up to kiss him goodnight on the cheek before hopping from the stool and ambling up the stairs to my bedroom. Throwing on Damon's freshly laundered t-shirt, I slipped it on over my head, fixed my hair into a messy bun, brushed my teeth and clambered into bed. As soon as my head hit the fluffy comfort of my pillow, I blacked out.

* * *

Shovelling another spoonful of cereal into my mouth, I ran my tongue over my teeth as mum glared at me from across the kitchen counter, "What?" I muttered through my mouthful of milk and _Rice Krispies. _

She shook her head in disapproval and went right back to wiping down the counters. Every few swipes, she'd give me a furtive once over before averting my 'eye'…

As speculated, I'd awoken to find a swollen, luridly large eye closed over. It was a putrid purplish colour with strips of red blood vessels all Halloween-ishy looking if I peeled open my eyelid. I looked like a goddamn corpse!

Sighing, I pushed my half-full bowl away from me and rested my head in my hands in defeat, "Just get it out mum, whatever you want to say."

She threw the dishcloth rag on the marble counter before me and placed her hands on her hips defiantly, "I just don't understand, Elena. You're supposed to be the responsible one. It's just not like you, at all." She sighed in defeat and her hands fell limp at her sides as she transferred her weight to her other foot.

"Well, I'm sorry mum, but she was practically suffocating Jeremy with her bumptious tits!"

"Language!" She admonished, pointing her chipped manicured finger at me, "I will not tolerate such things under my roof, Elena." She added more calmly.

"Whatever, mum, I'm going out." I mumbled, jumping from the breakfast bar stool, dumping my bowl in the sink and then stalking out of there.

"Where are you going?" She called out pleadingly after me. I could hear the faint traces of worry in her voice, but her annoyance masked it well. I was already bounding up the stairs before I could reply.

Allowing my pyjamas to fall off of me in a trail from my door to my bed, I put on some fresh underwear and hobbled on one foot as I attempted to force my legs into a pair of super skinny jeans. I threw on a green blouse and tugged my hair free from its bun. Only then did I realise that I'd put my shirt on backwards. Frustrated, I threw my green blouse onto the unmade bed and stormed to the bathroom.

I dragged a brush through my unkempt hair, wincing when it scratched into my bare back, but my eyes were unwavering on my marred face.

My eye was absolutely repulsive and the tiny little cuts on my cheek had dried blood seeping around them onto my plump and rosy cheeks. Grabbing a fresh flannel, I rinsed it under the tap before dabbing gently at the cuts and bruises. Maybe the chilled flannel would reduce the extent of the swelling, but makeup would have to compensate for the fluorescent colours. Obviously, there was nothing I could do about my eye being closed over, but I could live with that.

If I was in this state, I couldn't imagine what Tessa looked like.

A surge of gut-wrenching pity bubbled in the pit of my stomach, but I hastily pushed it away and began cautiously caressing the outline of my eye with my make-up brush. Tentatively, once I'd finished, I smoothed my fingers over the area around my eye, trying to blend the make-up in as much as possible without causing an ounce of pain.

Eventually, I made my way back to my bedroom and plopped down onto my bed, glancing at the clock on my nightstand. My eyes widened when I realised that I'd been dotting about for almost half an hour in just my jeans and bra.

I grabbed the blouse that was strewn across my scatter cushions and slipped it on before grabbing my purse and phone off of my nightstand. I descended the stairs two at a time and grabbed my walking boots and hooded jacket from the hall. If only I had my car…

Mum was wiping her hands on her jeans when she came out of the kitchen to see what I was doing. I rolled my eyes at her before slamming the door shut behind me. I wasn't in the mood for her crap.

I arrived at Mystic Grill just under half an hour later, sweating, panting and dishevelled looking. I glanced briefly into my reflection of the glass door as I entered and breathed a sigh of relief when I realised that my eye make-up, despite the circumstances, was not ruined due to my relentless sweating.

Subtly, after ordering a glass of lemonade from the bar, I slipped into an empty table by the window and cast my gaze out of it, letting my thoughts drift.

"Are you Elena Gilbert?" I blinked in fright and gazed up at the young boy before me. He looked around Jeremy's age with his copper hair, chubby cheeks and dimpled smile. He set my order of lemonade on the placemat before me.

"Yes," I answered. My voice sounded throaty and husky, and so I repeated myself, "Yes, that's me."

"Kickass," He grinned, bobbing his head and licking his lips as he drank in my chosen attire. I suddenly felt naked as his eyes lingered on the few open buttons at the top of my blouse.

"Excuse me?" I retorted, affronted.

"Haven't you heard? You're the talk of the town." He shrugged nonchalantly, as if it wasn't a big deal. My eyes near bugged out of my head, "Everybody's talking about you giving Titty Tessa a good beating. Don't look so bummed," He tacked on, noticing my expression of pure mortification, "She's always been a bit of a snotty bitch and we're all mighty pleased with it all. Well, all except Tessa and her disciples, of course. Oh, and Damon Salvatore…"

My eyes widened, as much as they could, at the mention of Damon, "Why, what's it to Damon?" I tried to sound as uninterested and unfazed as possible as I fiddled with my straw, pushing the ice cubes around in my glass. But, underneath the façade, I was frantically trying to put some sense into his words.

"Oh, he's mighty pissed at what you've done to his girlfriend. I wouldn't be surprised if he got someone else to blacken that other eye for you." He smirked deviously and drummed his fingers along the edge of the table where he was leaning, "In fact, I'd wager a bet to see to it that Damon will personally take care of that himself…"


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

My stomach churned uncomfortably as I processed the scene before me, a lone drop of perspiration rolling down the nape of my neck. I cast a lingering glance over my shoulder and towards the heavens and released a breath of anxiety. Piercing through the smattering of clouds a beam of blinding sunlight penetrated my eyes, which reflected the void expanse of cobalt blue sky. Mum honked her horn at me encouragingly from the seat in her car and put her thumbs up next to her beaming smile. Biting my lip, I turned back to the huge oak door before me. Inside, row upon row of vacant tables gnarled back at me, only a few customers seated. I wrung my hands in anticipation and made my way to the bar at Mystic Grill.

With a renewed sense of purpose, thanks to my adrenaline induced emotional sanctuary, I plastered an overenthusiastic smile onto my lips and came to a halt in front of Matt, who, unsurprisingly, was working the bar. He was drying a glass with a fisted teacloth when he saw me grinning before him.

"I'll go get Giuseppe," He informed me, obviously having been forewarned about my arrival. He slipped into the backroom and left me standing idly by the bar.

Patiently, I waited for his return, fiddling with the front of my jacket. I wore a pair of dark jeans with a white flowing shirt. It wasn't what one would call 'elegant' or 'fancy', but since Caroline and Matt each wore clothes provided from the restaurant, I figured I was not an exception.

I was right in my assumptions. Matt returned several minutes later and lead me to Damon's office, much to my dismay. Apparently, Matt had bumped into Damon in the quaint corridor between Giuseppe's and Damon's respective offices, and Damon had ordered that I come to him. Matt obligingly conformed and I cursed under my breath as he led me to his 'office'.

Matt lingered by the door for a few seconds before Damon, his striking blue orbs not wavering from my face, told him to leave with authority evident in his caressing voice. Again, Matt obliged and left with a soft click of the door.

"Good evening, Elena," Damon smirked from where he was standing in front of his desk, leaning back onto it with the backs of his hands tingeing a whitish colour from the force he was exerting onto his desk with his relentless grip, the blood draining from them. He crossed his feet at the ankles and observed me as I took a pensive step towards him. He looked dashing, as always, in a pair of black jeans and a grey t-shirt with a v neckline. I spotted the smattering of chest hair splaying out from beneath his shirt and averted my eyes to the immaculately polished wooden floor.

I nodded my head in ascent of his greeting, having to clear my suddenly tight throat before I was able to reply clearly, "Matt said you wanted to see me."

He hummed in response and straightened up from his position against the desk, "I've been meaning to speak to you. I came to your home yesterday to speak with you about something, but your mother said you weren't in."

Of course, I already knew of this. Mum had been badgering on about it all evening yesterday, gushing about how tantalisingly gorgeous he was. I didn't fail to mention that she was near twice his age. She'd shrugged indifferently and the inquisition began. She asked me how I knew him, if we were dating, and if he had a dad. I'd burst into fits of laughter and pointed out that everybody had a dad, even if they didn't know them or they'd passed. Thoughts of dad had come to mind and the subject was dropped. Yesterday, a relaxing Sunday divulging on chocolates and watching old reruns of a few of my absolute all-time favourite TV shows, I _had _been in. When someone knocked, I'd peered out of the window and spotted Damon on my doorstep and I'd very nearly spewed the chocolate milkshake I'd been sipping on onto the unblemished windows. I had begged mum to answer the door for me, since I was only in my pyjamas and the distinct memory of what the boy had said in Mystic Grill the day before about Damon 'blackening my other eye' had, admittedly, scared the crap out of me. I hadn't been ready to face him then, and I still wasn't now.

"I was… busy." I explained pathetically, flushing all over.

He chuckled at my poor attempt of an excuse, "Don't lie, Elena, I saw you peeking at me through the gap in the curtains. Don't excuse me for an idiot because I assure you that I'm not. Now, all I want you to do is promise me that you will never get into another brawl, _ever_ again." His expression transformed from laid-back and mildly amused to stern and seething in the blink of an eye. When I didn't reply, shocked to the point of being unable to form words, he added, "Promise me."

I flinched at his acid like tone and clenched my jaw in anger. If he wanted to treat me like dirt, then I'd return the favour. "As long as you put a leash on your girlfriend, then."

His eyes softened somewhat and his gaze drifted towards the right, undoubtedly confused, "Girlfriend?"

"Yes, Damon. Do you need me to spell it out for you?" I snapped icily. He didn't reply, "G-I-R-L-F-…"

"Tessa isn't my girlfriend, and I wouldn't want her to be. We're just fuck buddies occasionally. Where did you ever hear that from?"

"It's none of your business." I mumbled in more subdued tones.

"It is most definitely my business if she's spouting crap about me."

"It wasn't Tessa," I muttered blankly. I needed to fuse my argument; I couldn't have him thinking that he'd one-upped me. "So why are you trying so hard to protect her?" I questioned, grasping for something to say.

"Sheesh, you just don't get it, do you? I'm not trying to protect her, Elena; I'm trying my damned hardest to protect you." He fumed, throwing his arms up in resignation.

I froze at his words. Did he actually just say that? I raked my eyes up and down him, watching as his heaving chest rose and fell with each intake of breath. Yes, he most definitely just said that. I helplessly glanced at him and his face softened at my expression. My eyes were wide and puppy-like, my lips parted in confliction and my stance was stoic and taunt. "And why would you do that? Did you want to be fuck buddies, too?" I breathed quietly. I didn't have a clue if he heard me, but he must have because he responded several seconds later, an all-knowing grin on his lips.

"Essentially, yes."

I was all flustered and having a hard time trying to regulate my breathing, but I somehow croaked out, "Excuse me?"

He chuckled at my reply and strolled meaningfully towards me. Each stroke of his languid foot hitting the ground set my heart racing. "You were the one who said it, I just went along with it," He defended himself innocently, still smirking. He stood directly in front of me now.

"B-but I didn't mean it." I stuttered. He pressed his finger to my lips and my eyes drifted closed of their own accord. He let his finger trail down to my bottom lip, making it jut out. I reopened my eyes as it bounced back into place. His beguiling blue orbs were all-consuming as his hand ran gently over my cheek. My lips parted with my undoubtedly audible intake of breath and I could have sworn his gaze flickered to my lips for a fraction of a second. Then again, I was too caught up in the moment to really take notice; I was too busy focusing on controlling my laboured breathing.

_Breathe, Elena! _

Shuddering as I took a forced ragged breath, his hand fell away from my face and I immediately missed his sensual caress.

"Of course you did. Your reaction to me has just proved my point." Seemingly unaffected, he shrugged and padded back to his desk. His hand slipped into a drawer and he retrieved a crisp navy blue t-shirt folded neatly in the palm of his huge hand. Emblazoned across the left breast read 'Mystic Grill', and placed delicately on the top of the pile was a white identifier with 'Elena' written in bold capitals across it. I felt giddy all over and couldn't hold back the smug grin that tugged on my lips.

He placed the identifier neatly on the edge of his desk and threw the t-shirt in my direction. I caught it effortlessly and examined it blindly in my hands. My scattered thoughts were still concentrated on Damon's touch.

I quivered.

"What do you want me do with it?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing as I stared at the garment unseeingly.

"Put it on, of course." When I looked up, he was shaking his head at me and chuckling under his breath.

"Where?" I glanced towards the door.

"Here will do."

"Here?" I stuttered, still bedazzled.

"Yes, Elena."

"But you'll see me."

_Jeez, you sound as if you're on Scopolamine or something!_

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, Miss Gilbert. But I'll comply if that's what you really want."

I nodded my head and waited for him to turn around. He rolled his eyes before turning toward the wall length window. Luckily, it didn't look out onto any pedestrian based areas, just some sort of garden. It was blocked off on either side by a vast Beachwood fence with an intricately designed diamond shaped topping. The garden itself must have belonged to him.

Making sure he wasn't peeping, I peeled my top over my head and thrust it towards him. It landed on the mat of hair atop his head and I giggled as he took it off and passed it from hand to hand speculatively, his lips pursed and his brows furrowed. His hair was even more unruly than ever.

I slipped the employee t-shirt over my head and ran my fingers through my hair in an attempt to tame it. When I looked up, I noticed that he was staring at me with a hungry look in his hypnotising irises.

"You said you wouldn't look." I blanched, gulping.

"You teased me."

I bit my lip and blushed. It was true.

He picked something up from his desk and made his way towards me, fiddling with the object as he neared me. He reached out his fingers, palm turned up, as if to cup my breasts in his talented hands. I didn't move. I blamed it on nerves and shock.

_Keep telling yourself that, _my inner monologue admonished me.

Instead, his deft fingers pinched the t-shirt right where my left nipple was located and I swallowed. He shot me a disarming smile when the faint outline of my erect nipple became visible through the thin fabric of my top.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…_

"Yep, you definitely meant it." He winked sardonically at me. I pursed my lips at his words and observed as his fingers worked quick to pierce the head of the pin through the material he'd cinched their and fasten the latch on the unknown object. Looking down, I realised that the foreign object had in fact been my personal identifier. His eyes flashed to mine as the back of his hands ghosted over the taunt fabric there, reluctant to leave.

His hands felt fantastic, and so I didn't move a muscle in fear that he'd retreat away from me. A shuddered breath escaped me and I bit my lip to refrain from ruining the moment. It had been a long time since a boy had touched me this way, and even he didn't stir these traitorous feelings from within me the way Damon most definitely could.

Hesitantly, he retracted his hand and let it hang limp by his side. My gaze flickered from his hand to his crotch. I quickly averted my eye and squeezed my eyes shut.

"So, you're not mad at me."

"Of course I am, but not for the reasons you suspect." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and let his fingers trail down the corner of my swollen eye. I winced at the slight pressure he exerted on it as he scrutinized every angle of it.

"Does it hurt?" He looked genuinely concerned for a moment, his fingers still tracing the outline of it.

"A little," I replied honestly, meekly. Of course I'd applied minimal makeup in a vain attempt to conceal the bruising. The yellowish tinge fading around the edges had helped in that matter.

The gentle caressing of his nimble fingers against my cheekbone and each corner of my gradually healing eye, contrasted against what the young waiter had commented on Saturday afternoon. If Damon really wanted to hurt me, why was he trailing his hands all over my bashed up face? And why in the hell would he ask me to be his 'fuck buddy'? This was all too confusing and I desperately needed answers.

"I thought you were going to hurt me," I whimpered shallowly, my voice breaking.

"Hurt you?" He echoed, dumbfounded, "Where on earth did you get the impression that I'd hurt you?"

His movements stilled and he took a step back to distance himself from me. The look in the fiery depths of his eyes was bewildered and utterly heart-breaking. But he was a heartbreaker, ironically, and I couldn't –wouldn't- get involved with someone like that. I'd already had enough heartbreak to last me a lifetime.

I sighed and shook my head dismissively, "Nobody. Just tell me what I have to do and get it over with."

He raised his eyebrow suggestively at my remark, waggling them at my 'provocative innuendo'. I folded my arms across my chest and gave him a scathing, condemning look, "Okay, okay," He muttered resignedly, raising both of his hands in the air as if about to be arrested.

_Hmm, Damon in handcuffs…_

"So, you'll just be taking orders and serving for today in your section, since you're experienced in that field of work…" He continued to drone on about my agenda for the day, how to be courteous to the customers, how to handle a grumpy once; the basic necessities.

He handed me a foreign blue contraption and I twisted it aimlessly between my fingers. He then explained that it was used for clocking in and out, and guided me out into the hallway to a small integrated black box mounted onto the wall. There was a tiny screen with the date and time displayed on it, and beneath the screen rested two signs reading 'IN' in a bright green and an 'OUT' in a blood red colour. Below these two words were two golden shaded, metallic circles. He pressed the key fob to the metal circle that read 'IN' and sent me on my way.

The night passed in a blur. Mystic Grill was mainly uninhibited, save for a couple of family outings and a few romantic candlelit dinners for two. Overall, it was relatively easy work.

Occasionally, Damon would check up on me, watching from the back entrance as I juggled demolished plates and vacant glasses in my hands. I could feel his stare boring into my back. I could also feel the response to his presence down _there. _It was like my mind was choreographed to know when he was there. When serving a particularly fussy diner just before closing time, I spotted him out of the corner of my eye, watching me intently. Whenever I looked up, he'd be slouched against the doorframe on the threshold of the back entrance, his arms folded across his chest and his feet, yet again, crossed at the ankles. He looked like a Greek Adonis like that, the lighting of the twinkling branches across the bar making his eyes stand out evermore.

_Holy shit!_

His eyes never once faltered from mine, like he knew what he wanted and he was intent on getting it.

Giuseppe was there, too. He also observed from afar, scrutinising my every gesture and move, but he wasn't as present as Damon. He'd wander back off after a couple of minutes, either back into the confines of his office or outside for a sneaky smoke. I was stunned at this revelation, Giuseppe just didn't fit into the smoker category; he didn't suit the part. But clearly he did because I could always see him outside puffing away on the sordid sticks of death. That's what mum had always referred to them as, anyway, and her judgement was reflective of what I perceived cigarettes as.

Caroline wasn't working that evening as she usually worked the daytime shifts apparently. Matt had left the bar to help out back with the dishes. As the last remaining customer uprooted himself from his seat, his greying hair toppling forward at the motion, I did an internal fist pump and frolicked over to the bar. Damon was perched on a stool there, typing vigorously into his phone. He jumped slightly when the chair adjacent to him, that I was leaning on, screeched against the hardwood floor.

"I'm done for the day," I said. He nodded his head and climbed down from his seat, leading me towards the back.

"Clock out," He called after me, turning left into his office. After contemplating what he was doing, I did as I was told and scanned my key fob over the red 'OUT' button. I smirked at my accomplishment and waited patiently for him to return, toying with the fob between two fingers.

Damon returned a few seconds later with my cream shirt, jacket and glossy black handbag in his hands. He looked inapt and out of place with them strung over his arms. I giggled at the sight of him and he glowered at my outburst. He dumped them into my awaiting arms, quick to be rid of the inane girly objects, and sent me on my merry way.

"Goodnight, Damon." I smiled warmly at him, hugging my arms around my midriff section as a gust of chilly air assaulted me at the open doorway. I held the door open with my hip and lifted my arm awkwardly to wave at him, my belongings strewn across that arm making it doubly harder for me to perform the gesture.

He mashed his lips together in a self-satisfied smirk and waggled his spread fingers at me mockingly. God was he conceited. But I guess I sort of liked that about him.

The shrill thump of mum's car door swiftly closing brought me out of my reverie, and after shaking my head and casting Damon a last lingering glance, I let the door close softly behind me. The door closed softly and I leaned back and rested my head against its cold surface. My thoughts drifted to that of his hands on my breasts and I dropped my head into my hands in shame and embarrassment, rubbing my hands down my face in mortification.

The thing that struck me the most was that I hadn't made a move to stop him.

I made my way over towards the car, muttering under my breath all the while about stupid nipples and even stupider fingers…

Mum, annoyingly, wasn't in said car.

Peering down the street for her, I realised that Giuseppe was leaning against the outdoor wall of Mystic Grill, concealed minutely by a jutted out green pillar. He was puffing unyieldingly on a lit cigarette –death stick- with the glowing embers at the end the only sign of him being there. He wasn't alone.

Mum was beside him, also leaning against the scenic building. Her hair was twisted into a sophisticated knot at the nape of her neck and she wore a casual pair of faded jeans and a marshmallow pink t-shirt with a plunging neckline. She looked beautiful and absolutely ravishing in the simplistic get up. She always looked so pretty. I envied her luscious figure and her way with men. Why couldn't I meet men like she always seemed to?

I turned away from them, feeling as if I was invading on some private moment between the two of them, and gave them a few minutes to chat and whatnot.

Although nobody would or even could replace Dad, it was somewhat reassuring to know that Mum was at least trying to move on. It might possibly not be the smartest of ideas to mess around with my boss, but it was her coping mechanism, just as mine was journaling.

My thoughts drifted to that of Dad and one of the last conversations we'd had. How we'd argued and fought, me being none the wiser to the fact that, within a few days, he'd be dead.

Mum and Dad had sat me down one night –the exact night my douche of a boyfriend broke up with me, nonetheless- and told me that they had something important to tell me, something that I wouldn't like but that was necessary if I didn't want to go on living my life based on a lie. Only God knows what they were spouting… Of course, me being under the influence of alcohol and highly conflicted and annoyed by the fact that Liam –my boyfriend- had dumped me, I'd raged that I didn't need to hear it now and that I didn't give a shit…

That was eleven days before the accident.

Understandably, I'd questioned Mum about it after his passing, but she refused to acknowledge my implorations for her to answer me. I dropped the subject after a while, but it still nagged and gnawed at me every once in a while. Take now, for instance.

I took a deep, heaving, ragged breath and turned toward them, padding softly so as not to disturb them. "…-see you tomorrow?" Giuseppe was saying.

_Fuck!_

* * *

**A/N- So… what do you guys think? Giuseppe and Miranda have met officially! Oh, and what about the 'argument' with her parents? All will be revealed in fair time, although what her Dad was going to say will take a while to be publicized. Don't hate on me, I need some form of an on-going cliff-hanger! Also, what do you think of Elena's first day at work? See you in Chapter 9!**


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

The screech of tyres, the sound of a car door slamming, the muffled jingling of keys, two voices, one deeper and gruffer than the other, and the words, 'Would you like to come in?' woke me up. The less gruff voice had spoken those words.

Mum.

With baited breath and straining ears, I listened for a response, but I heard absolutely nothing. Did Giuseppe accept her invitation?

It had been a tumultuous week of incessant giggling, multiple phone calls and a handful of 'casual' dates. Not on my behalf, of course, but on mum's. From what I was gathering, they were far from casual and things were developing quickly between them. It was eerily strange to watch them openly flirt with one another from the sidelines, yet they seemed to be withholding from the progressing relationship. I guess I was partially to blame for that; I hadn't exactly been taciturn in my remarks or withheld my judgement from mum about their arrangements. But things were developing quickly between them, much quicker than the string of men that mum had dated in the past. Honestly, it sort of scared me a little.

Damon had been somewhat evasive this past week and I put it all down to the fact that our parents were dating. He must have objected to their arrangements as much as Jeremy and I had, but we reluctantly agreed to give him a chance. For mum's sake.

The perfect opportunity had presented itself in the form of my birthday and mum had fervently pleaded with me to allow Giuseppe and his family to join us for my birthday dinner. I wasn't exactly too pleased with her plans, but I stuck to my calm facade and appeasingly agreed, wanting to end her perpetual beseeching. It was my birthday on Friday, only four days away, and we'd all be going to a restaurant after school then.

Wordlessly, I slipped my legs out from beneath the duvet and tip-toed over Caroline's motionless form on the floor. She was snoring softly into her pillow and was not disturbed by my creeping about, thankfully. Mum had said that we couldn't leave the house, which technically didn't mean that others couldn't come over. Besides, it was just Caroline. Harmless, snoring, Caroline, who's heavy breathing had been one of the reasons I'd woken up in the first place.

The closer I got to the staircase, the more I heard them.

"Would you like something to drink?"

_Of course, Giuseppe accepted her offer, _I thought spitefully. It was nothing personal against Giuseppe, but, as wretched as it sounded, I didn't want mum to find somebody else. It just didn't feel right.

"Actually, I'd like to try something."

Silence. It was completely silent.

My foot faltered on the next step and I stilled, casting my eyes towards the kitchen. They hadn't caught me, but I had a sneaky suspicion that they were too busy to notice the creak of the floorboards under my bare feet.

"Did you hear that?"

_Okay, so maybe I was a tad wrong…_

"Oh, it's probably a mouse or something."

_Phew!_

"Hmm..."

I poked my head around the corner and froze. Mum was pressed up against the counter… with Giuseppe between her legs. They were like rabid animals as they each rolled their tongues against one another. _Shit!_

They each broke apart from the tight embrace they were in and their lips smacked together as they parted. Did I just say that aloud?

"Elena, uh, hi..." Giuseppe waved his hand at me awkwardly and scratched the back of his head with the other. My gaze travelled to mum as she whipped her shirt back on and fastened the buttons with shaky fingers. She'd taken up residency in front of Giuseppe, obviously trying to cover up his… nakedness.

"Hey, Mr Salvatore."

"What's with all of the racket? Oh, hey Mr Salvatore… Oh my God!" Caroline, initially yawning and stretching and oblivious to the circumstances, threw her hands over her eyes like a protective barrier from the truly horrifying scene before her.

"Caroline…" Giuseppe mumbled in greeting.

He looked helplessly mortified, whereas mum was finding it hard to hide the smirk from her face. I couldn't blame her though. If you got passed all of the humiliating nakedness and awkwardness of the situation, it was somewhat humorous.

Caroline peeked through a gap between her fingers before eventually removing her hand when mum manoeuvred herself to cover Giuseppe's junk from Caroline's view, and then she just sort of stared, which was a whole lot worse.

"See you at work?"

"Yeah." I saluted him hastily with an impish smile on my lips before tugging Caroline back upstairs.

* * *

"So, what do you think?"

"I think you're a perpetual teenager." I grinned from behind my journal, attempting to ignore the scathing glare she sent my way.

"Oh, come on, Elena." Mum whined, her eyes pleading with me, "It was just a few dates." She threw her hands up in exasperation and then slapped them against her thighs again, taking a few steps towards my bed so that I was forced to look at her.

Caroline had left early this morning. Apparently, she'd had cheerleading practice or something. I hadn't really paid attention to the details. Mum was dressed in her purple and white flannel bottoms and a violet t-shirt, a pair of fluffy silver slippers adorned her feet and a nightgown of the same shade of purple hung loosely open. She held two mugs of coffee in her hand and she held one out to me; a peace offering.

"Yeah, one date with my _boss_." I muttered under my breath, snatching the mug from her grasp. It splotched slightly onto my duvet and I halfheartedly swept a hand over the embroidered material before taking a hefty swig and placing it on my nightstand.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"About what you saw, last night." She flushed at the memory and shook her head to clear it.

"No." I sneered, a huff escaping my lips.

She sighed and plonked herself down onto the end of my bed, making it jiggle unsteadily. I cast my journal to one side and looked up at her with tight lips, "Fine, what do you want to talk about?"

After my first day at work, Giuseppe had kindly asked mum to dinner the following night and she'd quickly agreed, much to my dismay. Of course, they hadn't gone to The Grill, that would have been a tad strange, but they'd most probably gone somewhere fancy. The thought made me want to puke.

"About your feelings…" She trailed off. She began swirling the contents of her decaffeinated coffee around her mug, a nervous habit of hers, and just stared blankly at the swirling liquid.

She was obviously anxious and uneasy about the whole situation, but she still took my thoughts into consideration. Even if she really did like Giuseppe, she'd end things with him in an instant if I mentioned anything. I had to give him a chance to prove his worth. I couldn't do this to her and ruin their relationship, as much as I wanted to for dad's sake. But he'd want this for mum. He'd want her to find someone else and be happy, even if it hurt him. Mum deserved some semblance of happiness in her life and I couldn't deny her that and selfishly take that away from her. The worried creases in her forehead and the biting of her lip had my mind set. Clasping her hand gently in my own and caressing the back of it, I smiled encouragingly at her, "Giuseppe's a great guy, mum. In fact, he's probably one of the nicest you've ever dated. I think that you should be spontaneous and do what _you _want to do and don't worry about me or Jeremy. No matter what your choice is, we'll always love you and accept the way that you live your life. We just want you to make sure your making the right decisions for you, and be happy. That's the most important thing. It's what dad would want."

She finally looked up at me pensively, her eyes brimming with tears. Placing her mug next to mine, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me to her so that I was cradled like a baby in her lap. She placed a long kiss on the top of my head and then another on my forehead as she rocked me to and fro. "I love you, baby." She whispered hoarsely through her tears.

I smiled at her nurturing ways and placed a small peck on her cheek, "I love you, too, mum."

Muffled by my morning hair, she jived, poking my arm playfully, "I told you he'd have a hot dad."

I spontaneously erupted into fits of laughter. "Way to ruin the mother-daughter bonding session, mum."

"What can I say?" She shrugged, a grin on her lips, "I'm a natural. By the way, why was Caroline here? I could have sworn I said no one was to go out…"

"Technically, I didn't go out."

She gave me the _don't-argue-back-or-I'll-have-your-balls_ look and I offered her an innocent smile, fully loaded with dimples and puppy-dog eyes. When she didn't relent, I groaned and gave in.

"Okay, how about I fully agree to behave when we go for my birthday dinner with Giuseppe and we forget about the whole Caroline fiasco?"

"Deal."

* * *

I cast another furtive glare at the clock mounted on the peeling wall and slumped further into my seat at the back of the classroom. The resonating ticking of its hands were infuriating, leading me on to believe that the bell would soon sound any second, but it just _didn't_.

It was the final lesson of the day and I was desperate to get out of there and head to the library. After finishing _Wuthering Heights_ yet again, I'd come to realise that I had a dwindling supply of books that I hadn't already read. So, last night, I'd vowed that **I **would venture to the school library after class and check out the masses of books they had stocked. Surely, I could find something to stick my nose in.

I was dragged from my stupor when the strident toll of the bell rang obnoxiously near my ear. Earnestly, I slipped from my stool and flung my bag over my shoulder. My legs were quick to the door, chaos ensuing around me as I wormed my way through the throngs of hasty students. I ducked when a ball went flying down the corridor over my head, merely skimming me and leaving tendrils of my hair static and dishevelled. I patted it back down with my free hand and used my elbow to manoeuvre the door open. The sudden silence of the library ensnared me as I let the door close softly behind me.

Smiling sweetly at the librarian behind her quaint desk, I released a deep breath and began my hunt for a classic book, searching high and low for something, anything. I eventually found a decent looking one and pulled it down from its space within the shelves. I swiped my hand along the surface of the leather cover, cleansing it of the excess dust layering it. That's when I spotted _him_ through a gap in the bookshelves.

He was leaning forward in a modern green chair, a huge wooden table sitting vacant before him; nobody wanted to intrude Damon, of course. The sleeves of his black knit sweater were rolled up to the elbows, which he was leaning on, his chin resting atop his hands as he chewed on one of his nails. A rectangular shaped pair of reading glasses was perched on the bridge of his nose and a worn book was flopped open in his free hand.

As I neared his table, a determined strut in my step, I came to a sudden halt besides him when it dawned on me that I was actually about to join him. I felt compelled to. As if he could sense my presence, he turned suddenly in his seat to look up at me and my decision was already made.

"Can I help you?" He simpered sardonically. Reaching up, he brought the glasses from his face and folded them away, placing them neatly on the table along with his book.

I cleared my throat awkwardly and transferred my weight to my other foot, "May I?" I gestured lamely to the seat across from him.

He didn't say anything for a few seconds, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed me. I felt small under his intense scrutiny, but he eventually shrugged and picked up his book again.

Taking that as a sure sign that I was 'allowed', I blew out a deep breath, clutching the book I'd sought tighter to my chest and pulled the chair out directly adjacent to him. It scraped across the floor noisily and I winced at the sound, casting a quick glance at the librarian and then Damon to see if I'd interrupted him. Luckily, I hadn't.

Picking up the crinkled book, which I'd forgone looking up the name or blurb of, I turned to the first page and began reading. I knew it's wasn't going in, due to a certain someone sitting before me, but I continued to read nonetheless. A few pages in and I still had no idea what I was reading. I couldn't stop replaying the image of Damon's fingers as he fastened the identifier to the fabric over my left breast, or the way he'd looked at me from across the bar, his scorching eyes searing me, or when he'd flung me over my shoulder and slapped my butt playfully…

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and cleared my throat, looking up at him sneakily from behind my book, biting into my lower lip, "I didn't know you read."

He looked up at me slowly, having to tear his eyes away from the page of his book, "There's a lot you don't know about me, Elena." I couldn't help the smile that threatened to spread across my face and I pursed my lips together to refrain from doing so.

The remainder of afternoon was spent in a comfortable silence as we each got lost in our own respective books, although I still didn't know the first thing about my book, so I didn't end up renting it out. I'd just have to come back the following day and find another one. The thought made me feel giddy with anticipation, wondering if he'd be here again. Nibbling quietly on my sandwiches, I'd forget he was there. I had never seen him in that light before, he was usually so forward and outgoing, always trying to bug me or say something snarky. Maybe he was right; I didn't know that much about him.

But I sure as hell intended to find out more.

Damon left after only fifteen minutes and I was left on my own to read. The book wasn't that great and I ended up just catching up on some assignment for chemistry. It was fairly effortless on my behalf, so I was finished after just an hour.

Deciding that I wasn't going to get anywhere with the book I'd picked, I stood from my seat and traipsed back to the shelf where I'd found it. I placed it back on the shelf and smiled sweetly at the librarian as I exited. She seemed pleasant, not like those awfully cliche librarians you tended to find in young adult literature and teenaged-based TV programmes.

As I stuffed my textbooks in my locker, something caught my eye in the back of it. It was my running uniform. I bit my lip as I contemplated doing my ritual jog back home. I hadn't been jogging much since I'd moved here, the last time being when I'd first spotted Mystic Grill. With my mind set, I dumped the remainder of my textbooks in my locker and grabbed the neatly folded lycra shorts and crop top from the back. My running shoes were next to them and I scooped them up with two of my fingers before using my ass to shut my locker.

The girls bathroom was locked, which I sort of anticipated since all restroom facilities were locked by the janitor at 3:30pm. I knew I was pushing my luck when I tried the girls locker room. There were no female-orientated clubs on mondays and so that was locked, too.

I don't know what urged me to try, but when I knocked tentatively on the boys locker room door and there was no reply, I pushed it open and it budged. I poked my head around the doorway and sighed in relief when I found it empty.

The boys had football practice today, which is probably why Damon had left the library after only a short time, but I still had ten minutes before coach sent them back in to change.

_Plenty of time, _I thought smugly.

Between the red lockers lining the walls was a stripped wooden bench. I plonked down onto it and began peeling off my converse. I'd opted for jeans again today and there was no way I could run in those.

I deftly peeled my jeans off and folded them neatly on the bench beside me.

It happened suddenly. The door handle rattled and the frame of the door shuck. I ducked hastily into the locker next to me and closed the door silently behind me. I guess coach let them out early, just my luck.

I held my breath as a bunch of football players rounded the corner, a blur of crimson. The putrid smell of body odour trailed in with them and I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

They were babbling and hooting wildly as they dressed and when Damon came into view between the little lines in the locker, my eyes widened. Mud coated his cheeks and sweat was dripping from his forehead and around his blue eyes. How did I notice these details from within the locker, you ask? He was directly in front of the locker. _His _locker. The locker _I _was in.

_Oh my God!_

I surveyed him for a second, watching as his eyes zeroed in on the articles of clothing folded neatly on the bench behind him.

_Shit! My clothes!_

He shook his head and an impassive gaze took over his face, thank God. Maybe, he didn't suspect anything out of the ordinary.

Standing on my tip-toes, I gazed through the gaps in the locker at the bench. My jeans, both pairs of shoes, and my running gear were still there. I only had my underwear, socks and top on. So much for plenty of time…

I was too focused on the clothing on the bench to feel the locker door shaking and opening beneath my fingers. I quickly tore my hands from laying on the metal surface of the locker door and placed them over the space between my thighs. It didn't make much difference and didn't really cover much.

Damon blinked rapidly at me for a split second, his long, full lashes fanning against his high cheekbones. _Damn._

I handed him his clothes and towel from behind my head and he just stared at me for a second.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Damon, what's up?" Someone boomed from across the changing rooms.

"Nothing." And then he shut the door. The click of the lock made my eyes widen and my mouth fall open in utter shock. He'd locked me in!

I heaved a sigh of relief as he undressed and wrapped a towel around his waist. As if he hadn't even seen me hanging out in his locker just moments ago….

The crowd of boys dispersed after a while, leaving only Damon, his best friend, Klaus, and Tyler and Mason Lockwood. My eyes tended not to stray from Damon, except when he'd gotten completely naked.

Believe me, I'd wanted to look, but I just couldn't bring myself to. It was an invasion of his privacy, even though he'd done exactly the same thing to me on my first day of work.

"You ready?" Klaus' muffled voice sounded from the locker beside the one I was tucked away in.

"Actually, no," Damon voiced, gesturing to the white towel that hung from his hips. I salivated at the sight of his 'v' and the snail-trail of hair leading to… _Oh, lord have mercy on me. _"I was just gonna go take a shower. I'll meet you at your place in twenty."

"Don't take too long, mate." His thick, british accent drawled. Klaus was undeniably sexy, but he just wasn't my type. Well, Damon hadn't really been my type when I'd initially met him, but he'd still gotten under my skin.

Damon didn't respond, and when everyone left, Damon sashayed on over to the shower cubicles.

I threw my head back into the locker and the loud thwack echoed throughout the entire space. I was sure Damon could hear it.

"I know you know I'm in here, Damon." I slammed my fists uselessly against the front of the locker, "let me out, _now._"

He didn't respond and I screamed in frustration, kicking at the front of the locker. I stopped my assault on the locker when the door flew open. Damon was nowhere in sight. I could still hear the shower running in the background and I grabbed my clothes from the bench and clutched them to my chest, about to leave.

Looking down, I was still barelegged and I couldn't just walk out of there half-dressed. I placed the pile of clothes on the edge of the bench and sat down next to them. I pulled on my black jogging shorts and swapped my t-shirt for my crop top assemble. Whilst fastening the laces of my running shoes, the shower cut off and I froze. Hastily fastening them, I grabbed the pile of discarded clothes beside me and held them tightly to my chest.

When I turned around, Damon was standing outside of the shower cubicle with his hands resting on his hips. His towel was, again, in place, and the delicious contours of his chest were dripping with droplets of water. His usually dark hair was now two shades darker due to the wetness and it was dripping down the side of his face.

I wanted to touch him. To feel his supple skin beneath my venturing fingers. I wanted to feel him, all of him. I wanted him to want _me_. And, most of all, I wanted _him_.

I took a step towards him.

* * *

**A/N- Uh... Merry Christmas and a Happy new year? Is it too late for that? Sorry, guys, for the lack of updating, I've been preoccupied with holidays abroad, last-minute shopping and ****visiting**** family all over England. I was lucky to get a Macbook for christmas, so I'm just about getting the hang of that and the internet has also been down since I got back off of my travels, but it's ****back**** up again now, so I ****won't**** take as long updating next time ****_*cro_****_sses fingers*_****.**

**P.S- *whispers* It was my birthday on the 7th, so drop me a review in penance for my hard work and a belated birthday wish! **


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

_When I turned around, Damon was standing outside of the shower cubicle with his hands resting on his hips. His towel was, again, in place, and the delicious contours of his chest were dripping with droplets of water. His usually dark __hair__ was now two shades darker due to the wetness and it was dripping down the side of his __face__._

_I wanted to touch him. To feel his supple __skin__ beneath my venturing fingers. I wanted to feel him, all of him. I wanted him to want _me. _And, most of all, I wanted _him.

_I took a step towards him. _

He mirrored my actions, his bare feet dipping into the puddle he'd made on the tiled floor.

"Were you thinking of joining me?" He purred, raising his eyebrows suggestively and pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards the shower. A flimsy piece of white cloth was all that had separated us before. "Because I'm all for showering again, if that's what you want. It doesn't hurt to be doubly clean and, besides, everybody knows that it will conserve water and help the environment and all…"

"Jerk," I muttered under my breath, but I closed my eyes and shuck my head despite myself. For what it was worth, I _wanted_ to accept his invitation, but I couldn't. I shouldn't. I blinked open my eyes and my mouth fell open at the sight of the glorious adonis before me. "A tempting offer, but I'm gonna have to pass."

He cocked his head to one side and leisurely made his way towards me. A clump of black hair clung to his temple. I straightened my posture and clenched my jaw, fighting the inevitable. The dripping head of the shower matched the tempo of his languid footfalls, and my heartbeat sped up as he neared.

"Stop fighting it, Elena." He said in a hoarse whisper. His fingers tentatively reached out to brush the side of my cheek and my eyes fluttered closed at contact.

I shook my head and opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a shaky gasp as his lips found there way to my neck, nipping softly at my jugular. It felt as if his lips were making indentations in my heated skin. I was melting into him.

"Please," I begged, shivering despite the sweaty warmth of the changing rooms, "don't do this, Damon." But as I said it, I tipped my head to one side, giving him a better access to my neck and contradicting my words.

I groaned as he sunk his teeth into my shoulder blade, biting harder at the bundle of nerves there. The texture of his warm lips was sublime on my skin. It felt so odd, yet so erotic to have someones lips trailing my body. Not just anybody, but Damon. He chuckled at my response and looked up at me, his eyes alight. He stood up straight, so the tip of his nose brushed along mine and I shook my head for what felt like the zillionth time. "That's what I thought."

He lowered his head to my neck again and trailed a hot string of nips along my collar bone before sucking gently at the spot there, marking me. I didn't care. At that precise moment I didn't care of the repercussions of our actions or what good could come from this because as he sunk to his knees, his towel barely there, and swept his tongue along the hem of my shorts, I just about died. He sucked at my navel and I was revived again, his hands gripping my hips tightly. My sport crop top provided the perfect access to my skin. Every touch of his feather-light lips brought him closer to my sex and I was a panting, groaning mess.

"This is wrong, Damon. You know it is." I managed to say, trying to push his head away from between my lycra-short clad legs.

_But it feels so right!_

I don't know what it was, but the thought of Damon on his knees was making it hard for me to tell him to stop.

I pushed at his head, deciding that if he didn't stop now then I wouldn't tell him to stop again. _Please don't stop…_

He tore his lips from the waistband of my lycra shorts and looked up at me with pleading eyes. He wanted to do this.

"Please stop…" _Don't…_

Damon simultaneously sighed, minutely shook his head and closed his eyes, when he reopened them, his eyes were doe-like and pleading. It broke my heart. "You know, you're so very confusing."

"It's my middle name." I breathed, my chest heaving. He rose back to his feet and rewrapped the loose towel around his hips.

"I'll give you three seconds." He spoke with pursed lips.

"Excuse me?"

"To leave."

"To…-wait, what?"

"I will give you three seconds to leave, if you're not gone by the time the seconds are up, I'm not going to stop." He smirked knowingly, as if he knew that I would never pass up an opportunity with _the_ Damon Salvatore, as cocky as ever.

He held up three fingers to indicate that he was going to begin the countdown, removing himself slightly from my personal space, "Three…"

I took a deep breath through my nose, willing myself to make my decision. And quick.

"Two…" He continued, waggling his two fingers to flaunt that my time was running out.

Tediously awaiting the ending of his countdown, I thought about what a smart girl would do. She'd walk away without a care in the world, or at least pretend to. She'd play hard to get, allow Damon to fall at her feet as she pranced around his feeble attempts at seducing her. Much the way he'd been on his knees before me…

Damon was a player. He played every girl he desired and, right now, I was his designated victim. If I let him have his way with me, he'd forget about me almost immediately and move on to one of his more desirable girls. I had to decide before-

He leaned towards me, whispering enticingly in my ear, "One…"

His hands fell to my hips again and his thumb delved beneath the material of my shorts, edging towards my sex.

Allowing his hand to slip out of the front of my shorts, I walked forwards toward the bench where I'd discarded my clothes earlier and picked them up, my shoulder colliding with Damon's on my way. He swayed unsteadily on his feet for a second before regaining himself.

As I made my way to the door, his voice interrupted my internal musings, "Is that it? You're just gonna give up like that?" He clicked his thumb and forefinger together.

With my back still to him, I replied with my head held high, "I'm not going to ruin my mum and Giuseppe's relationship for a sleazy one night stand."

"Who said it would be a one night stand?" I could hear the anger in his voice.

"You said it yourself, Damon, you were the one who offered to be my fuck buddy. I'm not like that and I refuse to throw away what they've got because of my feelings for you."

"So you admit it then?" He sounded smug with himself and I was immediately frustrated.

I turned around to face him, throwing my hands up in exasperation, "Yes, Damon, I'm attracted to you. Why do you even have to hear me say it?"

He took a long stride towards me and, suddenly, he was in front of me, his hand caressing the length of my jaw. "Because when you're miserable and lonely and watching them flirt, I want you to think of me and how things could have been different, better. I've never had to deny myself anything, Elena, and I'm not going to start now."

"Well, maybe you should get your head out of your ass and stop being so selfish!" I retaliated, jerking my head away from him and batting his hand away from my face. "Your father and my mum like each other and, unlike you, I don't like denying my mother her shot at happiness. Us being together on an intimate level is only going to sabotage that."

"I'm willing to sacrifice that." His voice was gravelly and croaky; sexy.

"Well, I'm not." I turned away from him again and placed my hand on the door handle.

"You do realise that your three seconds was up about five minutes ago, right? Why are you still here, Elena?" He spoke teasingly, trying to rile me up.

"I'm just about to leave."

"Go on, then. Go." He urged me, "Leave. But just know that I will get what I want, whether it's now or next month. Hell, maybe even next year, but I _will_ have you."

I panicked and then the door was clicking shut behind me and, after stuffing my clothes in my locker, Damon's face through the gap in the door plagued my mind as I jogged home.

* * *

"How was school?" Mum inquired, taking a small sip of her water.

I chose to ignore her and continued to swirl the contents of my meal around with my fork. I wasn't in the mood to eat.

Jeremy cleared his throat from across the table and when I looked up he offered me a small smile, "I met a girl. Well, I haven't technically spoken to her yet, but I intend to. She doesn't talk very much and she just keeps her head bowed during our english class."

"That's sweet, honey." Mum said through a mouthful of food. She smiled at him in encouragement and then her eager eyes settled on me.

"How about you, Elena. Anything exciting going on in your life?" She badgered me, raising her eyebrows as she chomped on her stem of broccoli when I didn't reply immediately.

"No," I plastered a smile on my face, but I could feel it faltering, "nothing to report, at all."

"Alright, then, you're dismissed," She sighed, waving her fork in my direction, "Go and get changed for work, I'll drop you off."

"That's okay, mum. Caroline's working tonight and she's picking me up." I climbed from my seat with my full plate in hand. After disposing of it in the kitchen, I bounded up the stairs to my bedroom to get ready. Caroline would be here soon and I didn't want her getting into trouble because of my tardiness.

"You ready?" Caroline panted fifteen minutes later. She was standing on the threshold of my bedroom with her jingling car keys twirling around her finger.

I nodded my head and hastily fastened my hair into a messy ponytail. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Caroline shot me a sceptic look as I grabbed my bag and raced passed her down the stairs. I couldn't ignore the underlying implication in my voice, that I was ready to see Damon. But I wasn't ready. I was far from ready. I didn't know what I'd do if I inexorably saw him.

The ride to Mystic Grill was fuelled with Caroline babbling characteristically about this upcoming football game that she wanted me to attend. I knew Caroline was a cheerleader, but it just seemed so cliche and not-me that I found myself blocking her out. I didn't really have to contribute much to the conversation with Caroline anyway.

"So, what do you think?" Caroline smiled expectantly at me, cutting the engine.

Uh-oh, I hadn't heard a word she's said.

"Sounds great." I propped my leg up underneath my other in the carseat. We didn't have to be in for another five minutes.

"Perfect!" She trilled, pocketing her keys and leaning into the rearview mirror to puff her hair and apply a light coating of lipgloss, "Meet me at 3pm on Wednesday after school in the girls changing rooms. You can help me get ready and get my cheerleading uniform on."

"Cheerleading uniform on?" I echoed, dumbfounded. I sounded like a broken record.

"Yeah, for the game? Mystic vs. Augustine High? Well, there's this boy, Enzo, who plays for Augustine and he's a complete dick. Everybody knows he's only on the team because his Uncle Tripp runs the goddamn thing. We're so gonna thrash them." She droned on, animatedly angry.

"And you want me to go?"

"Gosh, keep up, Elena!" She clicked her fingers in a triangular motion in my face.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just distracted." I muttered lamely, casting my eyes to my fingers as I fiddled with them in my lap.

She heaved a sigh, "Let me guess. This has something to do with Damon."

"Is it that obvious?"

"No, but you two have been hanging out a lot more recently." She shrugged her shoulders infinitesimally.

"I wouldn't exactly call it 'hanging out'."

Her eyes shot to the digital clock on her dashboard before mumbling an expletive under her breath and climbing out of the car unceremoniously.

I followed her lead and slowly unfurled my legs and heaved myself out the car, fishing my handbag out from the floor. I thought of earlier and how Damon had been on his knees, kissing and nipping, biting and licking my heated skin. I thought of how he'd implied that it wouldn't be a one night stand, that he'd said that he'd eventually have me.

I numbly reached out and swiped my keycard across the green 'IN' censor at the back of Mystic Grill and waited for Caroline to sign in, too. She guided me to the employee break room around the corridor, where we disposed of our bags and coats and I fixed my identifier to my t-shirt.

As soon as Matt, Caroline's ex, appeared, she left and dragged me with her. "Have fun waiting tables." She sneered, fetching a red, plastic box filled with cleaning liquids, sponges and clothes from a cupboard at the back of the room. She balanced a mop against the wall besides it for later use and grabbed a pair of yellow gloves from the red box.

"Have fun cleaning tables." I guffawed back as she pinched the ends of her fluorescent yellow gloves to accommodate her fingers. They squelched at the movement and they made her look like the female version of Superman. I could just imagine Caroline with the blue and red costume on, her hands on her hips and her hair billowing in the fan-generated wind on a movie set somewhere. I chuckled at the absurd imagery and grabbed a notepad and pen and stuffed them into my jean pocket.

"Right," She sighed, shimmying the gloves further down her pale wrists, "we better get going."

I nodded my head and with a reluctant farewell we parted ways.

"What can I get you?" I smiled sweetly at the family I was serving. The little girl was overbearingly picky and was finding it hard making a decision. The kid's menu she held in her tiny hands was breaking at the seams and chaffing at the corners.

This was my fourth table of the night, since the bar was reasonably empty, so I wasn't in much of a rush.

"A mozzarella pizza!" She said in a sing-song voice, making it sound like 'mozella', "No, a… uh… chickin crury."

"Hope, do you remember what happened last time?" Her mother chastised her. She had a thick Australian accent that suited her tanned skin and mousey brown hair, "You had curry with your Daddy and you didn't eat a morsel of it. It's much too hot for you."

"I want Daddy." The girl whined, folding her arms wholly around her chest. Her pouted lips and the crease in her forehead was adorable.

"Well, Daddy's busy with Uncle Damon, you'll see him later on."

I froze at her words. Damon? Did she just say Uncle Damon?

"Can we see Uncle Damn, as well?" Hope pleaded.

"We'll see."

"I'm sorry if I sound intrusive or nosy, but I couldn't help overhear that you mentioned Damon. As in the owners son, Damon Salvatore?" I inquired feebly.

Instead of scowling like I'd imagined her to, the young woman smiled easily at me, "That would be him. May I ask whose asking?"

"Elena," I replied immediately, "How do you know him, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He's Hope's Godfather," She gestured to the kid across from her.

"Right," I shook my head and plastered another smile onto my face, "I'm sorry, what can I get you?"

Hayley, the woman, ended up allowing Hope to get the curry, although she was thoroughly dismayed and when the meal arrived she raised her eyebrows as the little girl shovelled a forkful into her mouth, opened it and breathed a heavy sigh, fanned her little hand over her mouth and then just about chugged down half of her blackcurrant fruit-shoot.

"Told you so." Hayley sighed, shaking her head in frustration as Hope pushed her plate away from her.

"You won't get any ice-cream if you don't eat up, baby."

"But I _need_ ice-cweam, mummy, my mouth is on fire!"

_Mum!_ Was Hayley her _mum_? In my opinion, she looked much too young to be a mother, probably around my age. But I wasn't one to judge, not with mine and Damon's predicament.

"At least eat your pita bread." She pleaded. I could see the desperation in her eyes.

Returning a few minutes later with their refilled drinks, I placed them on a mat on their table and smiled at the sight of Hope nibbling on the edges of her pita bread. Hayley looked pleased, too.

She balanced the phone she was speaking into on her shoulder and leaned over the table to wipe the corners of Hope's mouth with a napkin.

"Alright, hurry up please, I need to put Hope down for the night." Hayley was saying into the receiver, to which Hope was shaking her head defiantly. "Sure, tomorrow, yeah. See you soon."

She placed the phone back into her bag and pulled it over her shoulder, "Can I have the bill, please?"

"Coming right up." I grinned and dashed away with their plates stacked in one hand and their empty glasses in the other.

They were seated at a booth near the door and so when I turned around with their plates in my hand and someone swung the heavy metal door into me, the dishes were knocked out of my hands and splattered all over the floor, splurges marring the man's shirt.

"I am so sorry!" I was saying, fussing about the man with the piled plates at my feet. I'd someone retained the ability to keep the cups in my hands.

"It's fine, not something a little washing-up liquid can't fix." I couldn't mistake that heavy British accent anywhere. I distinctly remembered him speaking in the changing rooms earlier, saying that he'd meet Damon somewhere; Klaus Mikaelson.

"Daddy!"

I turned around to Hope who was climbing down from her seat and just about to stand in the smashed plates. I quickly scooped her up in to my arms and deposited her over the other side of the broken shards of glass.

"Thank you." Klaus smiled easily at me and, after rolling the sleeves of his grey long sleeved t-shirt up, he scooped little Hope into his arms and grinned when she planted a sloppy grin on his cheek.

He kissed her fully on the lips, "Is that curry I taste?" He chuckled, licking his lips before kissing her cheek, then her forehead, each of her eyelids, her button nose and then on her lips again, whilst she continuously squirmed and giggled in his arms.

Holy shit!

Klaus was Hope's dad.

* * *

**A/N- Dun, dun, DUN! I am completely gobsmacked with the amount of reviews I received last chapter -14 in total! Thats a new record for me in one chapter, so thank you so much! In reparation for your kindness and amazingness, I bestow you each a lingering kiss on the lips from Damon! You decide which lips ;) **


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

Strong, warm hands wound around my upper arm, tugging at me gently. When I didn't respond to them, my face a stone mask of complete and utter shock, a gravelly voice croaked softly near my ear.

"Come on, Elena, you're causing a scene." The voice turned harsh and demanding, annoyed and authoritative when I continued to ignore him. My coffee brown eyes turned numbly to his grey ones as he pulled on my arm to his office.

Giuseppe gently sat me down in the plush seat adjacent to his desk and made his way to the water fountain on the other side of the room.

Klaus -Damon's equally popular sidekick- was a dad? None of this was making any sense. Granted I'd only been here for a few weeks, but news like this wasn't something that I anticipated when I moved to a small town like Mystic Falls and it most definitely was something that people tended to gossip about.

This didn't explain why I was reacting in such an absurd way. I was shaking for Christ sakes as my brain worked overtime trying to process everything I'd just witnessed.

"Here," Giuseppe had returned and was kneeling before me, coaxing a plastic cup of chilled water into my hands, "drink this."

I took a small sip and then another before placing it on the oak desk across from me. "Klaus is Hope's father."

It wasn't a question.

Giuseppe almost reluctantly nodded his head in affirmation. "Yes, she's three years old."

"Three?" I echoed, my eyes widening, "but that means…" I mentally counted backwards how old Klaus must have been when he'd had Hope, ticking them off on my fingers one by one.

"Klaus was fifteen when he had her. Hayley was sixteen." Giuseppe finished for me.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

Giuseppe stretched to his feet again and sauntered back around to his desk. "They've had a hard time with it all, but they're managing. Hayley got her GED and Klaus returned to high school shortly after Hope's first birthday."

"Are they together?" I asked after a moments hesitation. I was questioning too much into their relationship.

"No, it was just a one-night stand. It most definitely wasn't planned, but those two kids have adapted considering the circumstances. They get along just fine and thats enough for them and Hope. They cherish Hope." Giuseppe shook his head in dismissal and I picked my cup up from his desk again. I stood from my seat.

"How do you know all of this?" I fiddled with the lines embedded into the confines of the plastic cup, running the pad of my thumb over the lines repeatedly to sooth my raging nerves. Why was I nervous?

"Damon is Hope's Godfather. Klaus is Damon's best friend and they're constantly at my house." He chuckled at the last part, "Are you going to get back to work now?"

I nodded my head and deposited my empty plastic cup in the trashcan on my way out of his office.

"Thanks, Giuseppe."

"No problem, Elena, just don't make a scene in the future. Those two have more baggage than most and they don't need no more to upset the scales."

Smiling in gratitude at him, I made way back to the bar. Caroline was cleaning up the mess I'd made earlier and the table that had housed Hayley, Klaus and Hope was now vacated and now accommodated an old couple who held hands across the table.

Caroline eyed me, sizing up my distress, as I came out of the kitchen with two strawberry sundae's in my hands and a smile plastered on my lips to appease her. She bought it and continued to throw the shards of glass and food matter into a small bin besides her.

My heart jolted when I realised that Hope had forgotten to grab this little, ragged rabbit teddy with floppy ears and a pink bow wrapped around one of them when she'd flung herself at Klaus. There were stains around its mouth where she'd tried to feed it and when I retrieved it and pocketed it in the pouch of my apron, I smiled to myself at the prospect of seeing Damon again to give him back Hope's stuffed toy.

* * *

Taking a deep, much needed breath to dispel the frantic pounding of my blood in my ears, I lifted up a hand and pounded my fist gently against the door. It took about three seconds for someone to answer and I could hear heavy footfalls on the stairs from inside.

"Elena." Damon breathed, taking in a quick scan of my profile. I was wearing my favourite white dress with the crochet top-half and a pair of white sandals with a huge flower over the toes, which were painted a garish blue.

"Happy Birthday, Elena!" Giuseppe beamed, coming from around the hallway and engulfing me in a one-armed hug. I put equal effort into the hug and leant back and smiled sweetly in return, my cheeks reddening at the prospect of being the focus of all of the attention, "Thanks."

I turned around when I heard mums footsteps clopping up the steep driveway of the Salvatore's home. She went straight to Giuseppe and planted a sweet, chaste kiss on his cheek before throwing her thumb over her shoulder and gesturing towards her car. "Shall we get going or what? I'm starved."

Jeremy was still seated in the car, a frown on his face. He _really _didn't want to go, but that was tough luck. After all, it was my eighteenth birthday and he _had _to attend the birthday girls dinner. Eighteen was an important milestone in anyones life, but he was, as per usual, your typical nark of a teenage boy.

It was finally friday after a drab week at school and an equally boring week at work. I still had Hope's bunny in my room, but I'd had yet to see Klaus since the incident at the restaurant.

"Let's." Giuseppe grinned and then we were whisked away back to mum's beat-up truck. Mum insisted that I get in the back with Jer and Damon, much to Giuseppe and I's disapproval, but she was a forced to be reckoned with and we each couldn't say no to her. Thats how I found myself squashed against the door with Damon's thigh pressed firmly against mine.

Damon was in the middle seat, his height making myself and Jer dwarf in comparison. Jeremy occupied a window seat, like myself, but he was staring drearily out of it with his headphones in, oblivious to the thick plausible tension between Damon and I.

"Can you higher this song up?" Damon asked, glaring at my mums and Giuseppe's clasped hands over the centre console. Mum obliged and cranked the music a little higher, blaring out anything else. It was some stupid pop song and I turned my head to eye Damon peculiarly. I wouldn't think him the type for girly pop songs.

He was staring at my thighs, a livid expression on his face. His forehead was puckered and his lips were set in a hard pout. I looked at my lap, confused and oblivious to the fact that my dress had rose a few inches and was bunched up under my ass. I swept a hand over the trickling material of my above-the-knee length dress to straighten it out and his hand caught my wrist.

Clenching my jaw, I cocked my head to one side as my lips parted in awe and astonishment. What was he doing?

"I like this." He whispered hoarsely, his voice a low croak near my ear. He brushed his fingers along the material over my thighs. I could feel his heated breath on my cheek, on the rim of my ear. I shivered despite the heat radiating within the car due to the compact space and cramped bodies. All I could think about was his thigh pressed flush against my own.

He released my hand and it fell limply to my side, allowing his hand to fall into my lap. It landed directly between my thighs, still over the cotton of my dress, but I could still feel the throbbing it caused in-between my thighs.

I clutched my bag tighter to my chest, concealing his hand from the prying eyes of our parents, but they were too caught up in talking and driving to take heed.

His index and middle fingers began stroking between the gap in my apex of my thighs and my breathing laboured at the feeling, "You shouldn't tempt me, Elena." He purred my name, making it sound like an expletive rolling off of his tongue.

I squeezed my thighs together, effectively trapping his hand there. He swiped one long digit along the front of my white, lacy panties, prolonging it, and it sent a shot straight to my core. A little, strangled whimper rumbled from deep within my throat and I dug my nails into the bare skin of his arm -which somehow had my arms wrapped around it- that his fitted grey tee offered. _So, that's why he'd wanted to turn the music up. To block us out…_

"Easy, kitten." He chuckled and retreated his hand. I groaned at the lack of skin-on-skin contact and looked up at him, my cheek resting against his upper arm.

The car slowly pulled into a parking space outside of a quaint Italian restaurant on the outskirts of town and I had to physically drag myself away from him. We gradually congregated towards a podium inside where a awfully cheery waitress grinned from behind five menus. I was stood behind Damon, checking out his delectably tight ass. His tight black jeans showed off just how tight that ass really was. But I shouldn't be checking out his ass, so I mentally ticked off all of the reasons he _was _an ass.

I slumped slightly against the pillar besides me. This was getting out of hand.

And then I was thinking about his hands between my legs in the car journey.

Mum pointed out our reservation name on a clipboard and the woman nodded and highlighted our name with a luridly bright pink marker before leading us to our allocated table.

The blonde waitress led us to a table in the back corner and handed us the menus. "I'm Rebekah and I'll be your server for the evening. What drinks can I get you?" She smiled, her gaze continuously flickering to Damon. She was twirling a curled strand of blonde hair around her finger and when his eyes met hers, she winked alluringly.

I saw red.

Jealously coursed through my veins, making my blood boil and my fists clench and unclench around the sides of my chair. Damon was smirking at her lopsidedly, but I could see the blue of his eyes dart to me every few seconds.

He was trying to get a reaction out of me.

_Well, fuck him!_ I thought spitefully. _You wish… Shut up!_

_And now I was talking to myself. Great._

"Just a lemonade, please." I didn't take my eyes off of Damon as the others chortled off their orders. He raised his eyebrow at me and I narrowed my eyes in response.

_Game on, Salvatore. _

Stealthily, so as not to draw attention to myself, I slipped my hand beneath the table and hooked my thumb in the strap of my sandals. I covertly undid the silver buckle and lifted my eyes to meet Damon's. He was staring at me, his mouth agape.

I smirked and winked at him, feeling the jealously pour out of me as he blinked rapidly at me, enjoying the show.

Letting my shoe drop to the carpeted floor with a dull thud, I stretched my bare foot across the table until I found purchase of the edge of his seat. I grinned and inched my toes forward, wriggling them. They prodded his knee and he jerked upright in his seat, his eyes devouring me, hungry and impatient.

I ran my foot over the length of his legs, over his jean clad calf before dipping it under his pant leg and hooking my foot around his ankle, rubbing there for a few moments before skimming back upwards towards his knee again.

I shook my head and inched evermore slowly forward until my big toe prodded the space between his knees.

His hand wound around my ankle, halting my progress and I pouted at him from across the table, acting all innocent and doe-eyed in my white ensemble. I looked the complete part. I wondered if he was going to push me away, to deny me, as his intense, calculating eyes scoured over me. His thumb brushed over the top of my foot and his grip relented as he extended my leg so that it pressed firmly against his crotch, guiding me.

Curving the instep of my foot over his crotch, I admired my handiwork as his face contorted in pain or pleasure.

His knee jerked and hit the table, causing it to shake on its wobbly legs and the cutlery to jump slightly. I held back the chuckle bubbling up my throat as my mum turned towards him, "Is everything okay, Damon?"

He didn't reply for a few seconds, his face turning a beetroot red as he tried to hold his breath, delaying his groans. "Fine," He spat, slamming his fist against the table whilst the other held onto the edge of the white linen table cloth that concealed us. I continued to work him over with my foot. "Just peachy." Mum turned away and began speaking with Giuseppe again, whilst Jeremy continued to play on his phone besides them.

I guffawed into my hand and ducked my head, pressing my foot deeper and downwards so that it stroked his balls. He hissed loudly and threw his head back into the wooden head of his chair. Mum and Giuseppe simultaneously turned towards him, both looking worried.

"Damon," Mum pleaded, "are you sure you're okay? You look a little worse for wear."

He nodded his head and made this "hm hummm" noise at the back of his throat in affirmation. His hands turned white at the knuckles as his hold on the edges of the table tightened. "I'm… starving." He replied shakily, trying to control himself. I pushed forward again and he cursed loudly, "FUCK!"

"Damon!" Giuseppe chastised him, eyes wide and appalled. "What is going on with you tonight?"

"Foot, I mean, fuck all, daddy dearest." He griped, slipping his hand beneath the table again to seize the movement of my foot on his crotch. I smirked, knowing that I'd already won this round. Just loud enough for me to hear, he spoke, "If you don't stop, I'll cum in my pants and I don't tolerate that shit. That's for prissy, pussies like Stefon."

"It's Stefan." I corrected him, but retreated my foot nonetheless.

_Elena-1, Damon- 0, _I thought victoriously, doing a mental fist pump into the air.

I slipped my sandals back on as if nothing had happened and pretended that I was engaged in our parents conversation all along. I leaned my head against my fist on the tabletop and watched as Giuseppe and my mum giggled and shared flirtatious banter from across one another.

When the cake came, I blushed and ducked my head as nearly the whole restaurant turned to smile congratulatory at me and sang the usual birthday song. Mum flashed a couple pictures on her digital camera of the two candles in the shapes of a '1' and an '8'. Parents were so weird. I mean, who takes pictures of a birthday cake? "Make a wish, sweetie." She urged me and my gaze darted to Damon.

What did I want?

The question itself seemed it held a fairly easy response, but it was completely misleading. I wanted a lot of things; that luxurious car I'd spotted along the highway on our way here, to get accepted into a pretentious college when I graduated next year, to go far in life and meet my idol, Ian Somerhalder. He was a walking sex-on-legs and he looked uncannily similar to Damon with his dark hair and beguiling eyes… Damon… because I wanted him, too.

So, I wished for the one thing that was safe, the one thing that people wouldn't frown upon because it wasn't socially acceptable to crush on the son of your mothers lover. I wished for my mum and Giuseppe to commit to their relationship because I knew what it entailed. If Giuseppe stuck around, Damon surely would, too.

I blew out the candles and the whole table erupted into cheers and applause and mum leant across the table to kiss my cheek. Even Jeremy cracked a smile and hugged me awkwardly from around Giuseppe, who slapped me on the back and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Happy birthday, Elena." Came Damon's sultry voice from across the table. My smile faltered and I stared, pursed lipped, at him. He was fiddling with his napkin, leaning back in his seat to regard me shrewdly.

"Thank you, Damon." I faked a smile, earning a curt nod of his head. Rebekah took the cake away, saying she'd bring it back out once our meals were served, and she later came out with our plates balanced in her arms.

When I reverted my eyes back to Damon, he was leaning back in his seat, smirking gallantly at me with his patented sexy, crooked smirk as if I was a prized possession in a fairground stall that he just _had_ to have.

"Game on, Salvatore." I drawled, biting my lip as I twirled the contents of my pasta around in its bowl.

Mum raised her glass into the air and we all followed her lead, "To Elena, my beautiful daughter."

"To Elena." They all echoed and we all clinked our glasses together.

I scooped my glass higher and held it up in Damon's direction, he clinked glasses with mine and we each took a sip of our respective refreshments, eyeing each other over the brim with our gazes unwavering. I smirked around the rim of my glass, as did he.

_Game on, indeed. _

* * *

**A/N- So, what did you think? We're in chapter 11 now, so I just figured that ****_something_**** had to happen with all of the sexual tension and everything between them, but don't worry things won't go too quick;) I'm too evil to do that. Also, I'm moving houses tomorrow and so I don't know when I'll have internet access, so I honestly don't know when the next update will be. Although, I'll surely continue to write whilst the internets down, after I finish moving things and unpacking of course. The joys of moving...**

**I was just wondering, within the next few chapters, would you prefer to skip over the next couple of months or would you prefer it if I just gradually eased Giuseppe and Miranda to move in together? Please get back to me on this because its sort of important in implementing what you want into this fic! ****Until next time…**


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

The girl, Rebekah, returned to collect our empty dishes a while later. She'd reapplied a bright red lipstick to her plump lips and powdered her face with bronzer, accentuating her defined cheekbones. Her cheeks were rouged and she'd opened the top button of her white blouse, teasing those who glanced her way with her cleavage.

As she lifted Damon's plate from the tabletop, she slipped something in its place and patted it enticingly. She sashayed away from the table with an extra sway in her hips and didn't turn her head to see if he'd acknowledged her swaying ass. He was and he bit his lip as he watched her excreting confidence as she returned to the bar.

He picked up the piece of torn receipt and smirked, seemingly pleased.

Our game of footsies beneath the table earlier caused me to blush after their exchange as my confidence fizzled and dissipated, like a balloon. It also made me realise how idiotic I'd been.

Observing as Giuseppe and my mum laughed and chattered with one another from across the table, my head started to clear and I knew that I'd fucked up with my escapades with Damon.

Across from me, he cocked an eyebrow as he gripped the table, rapping his fingers along the edges of it.

"So, what brought you to Mystic Falls, Miss Gilbert?" Damon enquired, turning on the charm. His eyes lingered on mine for a few more seconds before he turned his head towards my mum, smiling pleasantly and resting his head on his now clasped hands.

"Oh, you know, change of scenery and the usual family drama." She waved it off with a bat of her hand and took a sip of her water. I could see her hands visibly shaking.

"You don't have to sugar coat it, mum." Jeremy objected, placing his phone down on the table with a jerk of his hand. Mum jumped at the loud thump and placed her hand over her mouth to conceal her sobs.

She quickly regained herself, but she was definitely shaken up by Jeremy's comment. She seemed tense throughout the remainder of dinner and when desert arrived, she placed her cutlery down.

"Excuse me." She said, getting to her feet on shaky legs. A whimper made her lips quiver as she sped to the restrooms.

"Way to go, Jeremy." I sighed, defeated, and placed my napkin on the white tablecloth in annoyance before stalking after her.

We rarely ever spoke about dad between us, never mind with others. I pushed on the restroom door, poking my head around the corner, and closed it softly behind me, so as not to disturb her.

"Mum?" I knocked gently on the only occupied cubicle door in the restroom and slumped against the door when I heard her spasming sob in response.

She sniffled and I heard some rustling sound, like paper towels, and then her blow her nose, "I'm fine, Elena, go sit back down with the others."

I shook my head, and, realising that she couldn't see me, I spoke soothingly, as if to a small child, "Open the door, mum."

The door unlocked and mum emerged with a scrunched tissue in her palm and her face a splotchy red. She smiled reassuringly at me, but I could see through her cool and collected exterior. There were tears glistening in her eyes and she was mashing her lips together to quench the sobs wracking her body as she hiccuped. Her lips quivered and her body wracked as she slumped forward with another round of hysterical tears.

"Come here." I opened my arms to her and she immediately threw herself at me and sobbed into my shoulder. I hated seeing her cry, despised it, and I couldn't believe that Jeremy had actually said that shit. He knew better than to bring up dad, knew better than to mention him, knew that it always had this effect on her. He knew that it killed her inside, knew what she'd gone through after his death, and he knew that it would bring this reaction forth.

Smoothing my hand through her hair, I shushed her, trying to placate her, "It's okay, mum. Jer's just a little upset that you've found someone new that isn't dad."

She nodded her head silently into my chest and wiped her nose, "I know, but he's gone. He's gone… Oh God, he's gone." A new round of tears filled her eyes and, with them, a whole new round of hysteria.

She was an utter mess, gut wrenching sobs convulsing her body as she slumped into my arms, "No, no, no…" She repeated the words as she slouched against me. My mum had once been slender, but two children and a bound of mourning her late husband later, which entailed a bunch of comfort eating and then a patch of not eating at all, and she was bound to gain some pounds. Her pudgy frame leaning against my slim one, made my back bow and caused me to stumble on my feet.

"Hey, hey, Miranda, calm down. Please…" It was Giuseppe. He wrapped his arms around mum from behind. Before I had the chance to process the fact that Giuseppe was in the women's restrooms and shoo him away, she turned in his arms to embrace him tightly.

Initially taking a defensive step towards her, I stopped mid stride, my mouth forming a little circle of shock when I realised that he was actually able to calm her some.

I dispelled a breath of air, a worrisome crease in my forehead, and ran a hand through my hair. I looked over my shoulder, sensing a presence, and spotted a silhouette in the doorway. It was Damon, breathing heavily with his lips parted as he exhaled, like he'd been running. He held the door open with his back foot and the corresponding right hand. The other was raised slightly in the air, as if about to reach out to help, but there was nothing he could do.

Turning fully to face him, I began traipsing towards him, but stopped suddenly to glance back at my mum. She was sat on the ceramic floor with Giuseppe bent down in front of her, wiping her tears and whispering something to her. She nodded her head to whatever he was saying and he helped her up to her feet. She offered him a watery smile in thanks as he pried the soiled tissue from her hands, threw it in the trash and unfurled a new handful for her as she doused her face with cold water. He seemingly had everything under control.

I spun back around to face Damon and walked past him, waiting for him to follow. I didn't turn around to see if he had.

I came to a halt at our table upon seeing it completely vacated, "Where's Jeremy?"

"He's upset. He ran outside to cool off and I tried to chase him, but he took off when he realised my intent." Damon explained.

"What was your intent?"

"To kick some sense into his stupid ass."

When I turned to face him again, my expression one of blatant distress, he took an involuntary step towards me.

"What's wrong?" He probed, tugging at the ends of his hair in worry, his face contorted in something like concern, a side I'd never really seen with Damon before. He was always so cool and collected, a little bit of an ass… Okay, a whole lot of an ass, but never concerned.

I shook my head and took a shaky sip from my lemonade before slamming it back down on the table. It sloshed over my hands and I picked up a napkin to wipe them slowly, eyeing Damon cautiously.

He'd find out soon enough. Of course, he would. There was no way something else wouldn't come up in a conversation involving the incident with my dad. There was no plausible way around it.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, mum and Giuseppe returned, with his arm draped over her shoulder and Jeremy traipsing behind them, sulking and looking embarrassed.

When he finally tore his eyes away from the ground, they flitted to mine and I raised my eyebrow in question, pursing my lips. He quickly averted his eye.

"He apologised, Elena. Don't give him a hard time. He's just not used to having men around. I understand." Giuseppe hadn't spoken authoritatively or in a chastising way, but more soft-spoken and acting like a peacemaker, courteous.

I huffed in a halfhearted sort of way and was about to tack on that mum had dated more men in our lifetime than Henry VIII with his many wives and so we _were_ used to a lot of men in our lives, but I kept it to myself and looked away from his enquiring eyes.

Throughout the course of what was left of my birthday dinner, mum calmed down some and seemed to return back to her normal self. Jeremy had moved to sit besides me, still ashen faced and ashamed of his behaviour.

After Giuseppe asked for the bill, which throughly dismayed me; he shouldn't have to pay for my meal, Damon stooped from his seat, which also irked me although I couldn't pinpoint why, and shrugged on his black leather jacket. He zipped his phone away in his pocket and planted a kiss on my mothers cheek, his hand resting on the back of her chair for support.

"Leaving so soon?" Mum asked, charmed.

Damon nodded and stood back upright, "Yeah, I'm meeting Klaus at the cinemas."

"Oh, what are you going to see?"

"Oh, you know, just some gory horror movie." He shrugged. Looking away, I took another sip of my lemonade. Despite how much I hated to admit to myself, I didn't want him to leave just yet.

"Well, have fun." Mum grinned, patting his hand which was still leaning on the back of her chair.

"Will do, Miranda. Won't be back too late, Pa." Giuseppe nodded his head solemnly, looking a little pissed off. Damon smirked at his father before turning around.

"Hey, Damon, wait," Called Giuseppe. Damon turned to face him, looking peeved.

"What do you want now?" Damon sighed, rolling his eyes. He'd plastered a tightlipped smile on his face to hide his displeasure.

Giuseppe grinned and leant back in his seat, pleased with himself, "Why don't you bring Elena along with you?"

Damon looked my way.

It took me a moment to register what he'd said, but when I did, my eyes widened and my back straightened in my seat.

"No, no, thats alright, sir- Giuseppe!" I quavered. My eyes seemed to glance towards Damon inconspicuously to gather his reaction.

His face transformed from blank to bemused in an instant. I could see all of the different scenarios shuffling behind his eyes.

"Perfect." Damon beamed, taking a few steps from around the table towards me before offering his hand out. "That is, if you want to, Elena?" He drawled out my name, doing strange things to my body.

I looked towards my mum, interpreting her reaction. She smiled appeasingly and nodded her head, "It's your eighteenth, Elena. Go. Have fun."

Laying next to my mum on the table was a small, blank receipt with Rebekah's number on the reverse side. I didn't know whether Damon had purposefully left it there and therefore only flirted with her to cause the jealously to stir inside me, which was a success, or whether he'd somehow forgotten it with the chaos that had ensued earlier that evening. Whichever was the reason, I was grateful for it.

I looked back up towards Damon. He was still smirking, one eyebrow raised, trying to irk me on; trying to challenge me.

I tenderly placed my hand in his.

_Challenge accepted._

* * *

My suspicions were confirmed when Damon didn't immediately slow down outside of the town's local cinemas. Instead, he sped on past it and continued forwards for another fifteen minutes until we reached this deserted stretch of backstreet with houses boarded up and newspapers shielding the windows. Damon slowed down when we reached the corner, where a building offered the only signs of life through the illuminated windows.

"What is this place?" I mumbled, dumbstruck. I leant forwards in my seat to get a better view just as a man stumbled out of the front entrance with a bottle clutched tightly between his fingers.

"My go-to bar." He denoted as the man opened his mouth to vomit up the wall of the joint.

"No cinema?"

"No cinema." He chuckled, turning off the ignition and withdrawing his keys. He hopped out of the car and gestured for me to follow him.

Of course, no courtesy from Damon.

Huffing agitatedly, I pulled on the lever and climbed out of the car, jogging to catch up with him on the sidewalk.

Without heed, he nudged the dorsum of my hand gently, coaxingly. I looked down at his fingertips brushing delicately over my knuckles, my heart simultaneously spluttering at his touch.

"Hold my hand." He ordered patiently.

"Why?"

"Just do it."

I obliged, entwining our fingers together one by one. He tugged me gently forwards, towards the entrance of the old, wood-based bar.

I resisted once we'd mounted the first couple of steps and he twisted, resigned, to see what was wrong.

"We can't go in there," I spat, quiet so as not to make a commotion.

"Why not?" He smirked, releasing my hand to fold his over his breast.

"Because we're underage. We'll get caught and they'll tell our parents." I blurted out feebly.

He shook his head, refuting my excuses, "You're officially 18 and, believe me, they won't say a thing. Not that Giuseppe could do anything about it." He muttered the last part under his breath.

It suddenly occurred to me that he was right. I sighed and clucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth in contemplation.

"Oh, come on, Elena. Please?" He begged, pouting his bottom lip out.

"Fine." I relented and he squeezed my hand one more time before ushering me inside.

Like the outside, the interior consisted of wood. Wooden floors, wooden walls, wooden bar, wooden tables, wooden stools…

A man was wiping down the bar with an old rag and he lifted it up to wave in Damon's direction. It looked like he'd had the sodden rag for years and hadn't washed it in that period of time either.

The man had greying tufts of hair, receding past his forehead with coarse, weeks old stubble, verging on the cusps of a beard. He was old. The wrinkles around his eyes and the laugh lines indented into his skin reflected his age. He had a light pair of ripped jeans on and a dirty white t-shirt, with oil stains marring the hem where he'd wrung his hands.

"Come on." Damon whispered, twisting his head so as not to gather unwanted attention. Gazing around, a few of the residents were watching us peculiarly, eyeing Damon's leather boots and jacket combo with watchful, attentive eyes.

He had to physically drag me towards the bar, and when we reached it, he had to plop me down into a stool before occupying one himself besides me. The man behind the bar leant his hands on either side of him, his fingers dipping in the little puddles of beer on the surface of the bar.

"Nice to see an old face, Damon. Where've you been hiding?" The man smirked, clapping hands with Damon's in a firm, yet friendly shake. I could detect the signs of a faint irish accent in the lilt of his voice.

"This one keeps me busy, if you know what I mean." Damon winked, releasing my hand to point a thumb at me.

The man grunted his appreciation of me, his eyes raking over my white dress and tiny curls. Compared to every other person in the bar, I looked innocent and angelic. I did not fit in with the busty girls with piercings, fishnet tights and spiky gelled hair.

"The names Travis." He croaked, throwing his dishcloth over his shoulder to extend his hand to me. I resistantly clasped it in my own and he pressed a sloppy kiss on the back of my hand. I grimaced and he grinned, his face still near my hand.

Damon cleared his throat from besides me and Travis immediately dropped my hand. "What can I get you?"

I looked towards Damon for help, but the look in his eyes made my mouth snap closed. He looked livid, his nostrils flaring as he glared at Travis for his earlier stunt.

"The usual," He finally replied. His eyes met mine and he sighed, "make that two."

"Two bourbons coming right up." He smiled shakily, grasping at the opportunity to get away.

"He seems…"

"Sketchy?" Damon offered. I nodded, "Yeah, he is, but he's an old friend. He just likes to test the limits."

Travis slammed down two glasses in front of us, making them slosh over the rim before making a hasty departure.

"What is this?" I asked, picking my glass up and giving it a hesitant sniff.

He chuckled as I turned up my nose at the strong smell, "It's bourbon; very strong, very effective. It should do the trick."

"What trick?"

"Get you wasted enough so that I can seduce you."

"S-seduce me?" I stuttered dumbly.

"Don't flatter yourself, Elena. I'm kidding." But I didn't know if he was being serious or not.

A silence descended over us as we each took a sip of our drinks. I sneered at the taste and set my glass back down on the bar. "That's disgusting."

"I figured you wouldn't like it." He chuckled, reaching over to slide my glass towards him, hunching over his two glasses like a possessive madman, "No matter, more for me."

He ordered me another drink; pineapple juice with pina colada. It was much sweeter and more refined to my tastes.

Nursing both of his glasses, he said something that made my heart falter and near splutter my drink out.

"What happened today at the restaurant?" It was a quiet whisper. He nudged my shoulder with his when I didn't respond.

I blew out a breath, "Two years ago, my dad died in a car accident." My voice wavered and broke on the words 'died' and 'car accident'.

He didn't speak for a while, too shocked to say anything I guessed. It _was_ a lot to take in. How did you respond to something like that?

"Why didn't you tell me?" He finally spoke, his voice low and breaking as he spoke.

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, Damon, I don't. I never know what you mean. One minute you're hot, the next you're cold." I sighed, defeated. I shook my head and picked up my glass, downing the entire thing and sliding it back across the bar for seconds.

"Is that why you reacted the way you did in the parking lot when I mentioned your dad?" He asked, the pieces forming together in his mind. I nodded gloomily in response and took another gulp of my fresh beverage, courtesy of Travis.

If we were going to be having this conversation, I needed a drink or two.

An arm draped over my shoulders and wrapped around the side of my neck, along with Damon's, bringing us closer towards each other, "If it isn't Elena Gilbert."

Klaus.

I'd forgotten he was due to meet Damon, hence why we'd had to leave my birthday dinner early. Forcing a smile onto my face, I twisted around in his arms.

"Nice to see you, too." I grinned.

Dropping his arms, he threw each leg over the seat of the stool besides me and hooked the toe of his boots around each leg of the stool, folding his hands over the sticky surface of the bar.

"Can't stay long. I've got Hope tonight and she wants me home in time to read her a bedtime story."

Right, he had a daughter, who I still had the bunny of in my room.

In the corner of the room, someone kicked the side of a jukebox collecting dust and an old tune came blurring through the ancient speakers. A collective round of cheers and hoots buzzed in the occupants of the bar and a few women in scandalous outfits pushed a bunch of tables out of the way for a makeshift dance floor.

The tune was familiar and, soon, I was beginning to enjoy myself and forget about Damon and I's previous conversation. The music was all I could feel reverberating through me and all I could think about. There was no room for anything else and I could feel the tension elevate from me as I took another swig of my drink and set it on the bar, humming along to the tune and swaying my hips a little on the stool.

A woman with curly black hair, short shorts and a cropped belly top hoisted herself up onto a table and began gyrating to the music, bellowing with her friends the lyrics to the song. Men hooted and wolf whistled around her, enjoying the show and then another girl joined her with fiery red hair and their hoots raised in crescendo.

The atmosphere was absolutely electric and I completely understood why Damon regularly hung out at this place; it was nothing like any other club or bar I'd dared to venture into.

Grinning widely, I turned my head to see Damon eyeing me thoughtfully, a small smile on his face. It wasn't the same sort of smile I'd seen Damon wear before. It wasn't cheeky, daring or provocative. It was sweet and admiring.

I was suddenly yanked from my staring when a face ducked to my view and gestured with a wag of their finger to join them. It was the dancing raven-haired girl.

I quickly shook my head in a resolute decline, but she persisted, holding out her hand for me to take.

I don't know what urged me to. Maybe it was Damon's admiring smile, the alcohol or the fact that it was my birthday and I wanted to, but I took that girls hand and hopped up onto the bar which she'd migrated onto with her redheaded friend.

Swivelling around to face the growing crowd, I grinned and lifted my foot up towards Damon.

"Help a girl out, would ya?" I smirked, winking. I wiggled my toes as he undid the buckles on my sandals, caressing the instep of my foot as he did.

Once he'd unclasped them, I kicked my sandals off into Damon's lap. He caught the second one, smirking dastardly as I spun around and dropped down into a crouch before sensually shimmying myself back upright and slapping my own ass.

The crowd cheered and, as they did, my confidence swelled.

Travis must have set up a karaoke machine because, awhile later, the black-haired girl, the redhead and I were singing along to the jukebox through a shared microphone. Our voices were not in sync and we must've sounded terrible, but the crowd seemed to enjoy us as much as Damon seemed to be enjoying the show.

_Black Velvet _by_ Alannah Myles _was blaring through the speakers, laced with our three intertwined voices overriding it. At some point, a young man joined us on the bar and the two girls all worked his shirt over his head and playfully roamed their hands over his chest. Thats around the point where I decided that things were getting a little hectic and I plonked my ass down on the edge of the bar for a sip of my drink.

Damon was besides me, grinning like a fool and, over his shoulder, Klaus was provocatively dancing with some girl.

"What a show." Damon grinned, clapping his hands slowly. Hopping down to my bare feet, I took a bow and giggled tipsily as I righted myself against Damon's shoulder blade.

"Care to dance?" A beefy, bald man tapped on my shoulder and I shook my head politely, but he persisted, stroking the white fabric grazing the back of my thighs. "Come on, sugar, don't be like that."

"She's with me." Damon growled lowly, jumping immediately to his feet. The man immediately retracted, taking a wobbly step backwards before scurrying back to his gang of friends.

"Come on." The black-haired girl from earlier, Bonnie, said, handing me a glass before grabbing my hand and tugging me towards the makeshift dance floor. The hooting men had cleared some of the tables out and some of the men were gyrating in the dim lights with dangerous looking girls.

I definitely did not fit in here, but I liked it, somehow.

Bonnie and I swayed our hips seductively, her running her hands all over my body as I drunkenly wiggled my ass and simultaneously gulped the glass she'd handed me before handing the empty glass to a random man and continuing. When I looked up towards Damon, Klaus was besides him and whispering something close to his ear. Damon swivelled around in his seat to watch me and smiled when I added a little more sway to my hips and ground my junk into Bonnie's crotch like a hooker. What was happening to me? At some point, a young, gruff boy came over to nibble at her neck and she giggled and he dragged her off to some closet in the corner. Some while later, I realised it was the guy she'd been stripping at the bar earlier.

I suddenly felt sick and woozy, but when I looked to the place where Damon and Klaus were seated, Klaus was gone and Damon was watching me intently.

I wagged my finger seductively in his direction for him to join me and he resignedly obliged, jumping down from the stool and twisting around to place his glass on the bar. Slowly, he sauntered towards me, a devilish look in his eyes.

"Dance with me, sir?" I pouted, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

"Of course, Miss Gilbert." He smirked, lifting his hand up for me to take. I smiled and took ahold of his hand again.

He spun me around and ground his growing erection into my backside as I dropped my head back onto his shoulder, groaning at the sensation.

* * *

Damon had placed his other hand on my lower back and swayed me gently to and fro, our swaying not matching the tempo of the music, but we each didn't seen to notice.

The music had died down and the club had gradually emptied, until only a handful of people remained. Damon was wasted, completely and utterly, and I guess I was, too. Klaus had returned home to Hope, and Bonnie had emerged from the closet with a lopsided shirt and smeared red lipstick. The man had followed closely behind her, still buttoning up the zipper on his faded jeans.

I opened my mouth as my eyes rolled into the back of my head tiredly, "Why did you claim that I'd kept you busy earlier to Travis?" I lifted my head up from the crook of his shoulder to mimic quotation marks on the "kept you busy" part before drooping my head back to his shoulder.

It took him a while to reply, probably trying to fabricate a decent response. "He needed to know that because he likes to touch things that don't belong to him." He peeled his head back to look down at me.

"I don't belong to you. You hold no claim over me." I vouched, my eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

"Yes, you do." He breathed and he inched his fingers over my waist to my collar bone, peeling away the fabric of my dress by my shoulder, lowering the strap completely. He lowered his head back down to my neck, opening his mouth to suck gently at my newly exposed skin. I groaned in something like pain or pleasure as he began sucking harder and harder at my collar bone, and when he eventually pulled away, his mouth made a small popping sound. "There," He spoke gruffly, "mine."

* * *

**A/N- So, there you have it guys, chapter 12. I really am honestly sorry for the delay, but as I've explained to a few of you, I had to move houses TWICE and so we only got the internet back last week, which was annoying and since I was still in the process of moving for the second time last week, I didn't have any time to myself and just sit down to check the chapter over. So, here it is now and, again, sorry for the delay! Review=…my happiness;)**


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

Something was poking me in the head.

_No_, something was _hammering _my head.

I groaned in retaliation and snuggled my head further into the softness beneath it, using my free hand to rub my temples, before bringing it back to its resting place on the… On the what?

A nipple.

There was most definitely a small, masculine -no boob- nipple under my hand. I pinched it a little, hearing a slight squeak at the infliction.

Popping open one eye, I spotted Damon under my head, me sprawled across his chest with our bare legs mingled beneath the sheets. His midriff was bare and his jeans were slung over an old chair in the corner. I was still wearing my white dress, but it had risen almost to my bellybutton and I couldn't move to pull it back down because Damon's arm was slung protectively over my shoulder, possessively securing me to his side.

I wriggled in a pathetic attempt of escape, but his grip only tightened and he tugged me higher up his chest, until I was hovering over his side.

His hip dug into my stomach painfully and I winced a little and took a shaky breath.

In sleep, Damon looked like a whole other person. Sure, he was still inhumanely beautiful and had the same features, but he looked peaceful and innocent in rest. There were no frowns marring his forehead or twitches of the lips that formed these little dimples and laugh lines around them. His lips were parted slightly, even breaths coming from him. The softness of his features stunned me in contrast to the usual sharpness about him.

He groaned in his sleep and bucked his hips a little to the side to get comfy and thats when I felt his morning wood press against my outer-thigh. I gasped, my breath stirring his hair. His eyes blinked open in rapid succession, blinking away sleep from his aqua eyes, and then he smiled lazily, folding his arms under his head.

"Good morning to you, too." He grinned, winking. I groaned and rolled over, free from him at last.

"Where am I?" I breathed, sitting up on my elbows to survey the room.

"A motel, I'm guessing." He stated, throwing his covers off to grab his jeans and shirt off of the back of the chair. He made his way to the bathroom across the room.

Snapshots of last night played through my mind, plaguing me with both the fun memories and the embarrassing ones. They were sort of giving me whiplash. No. Not whiplash. My head was pounding and, placing two fingers on each of my temples, they throbbed under the pad of my fingers. Running my tongue over the roof of my mouth, it felt all fuzzy, like a ball of fluff had exploded whilst I was asleep in my mouth. To put it blatantly, my mouth tasted like shit and my head felt like shit, too.

I remembered him watching me dance with that girl -Bonnie?- and I recalled how he'd responded at my touch. My hands sifted subconsciously to my throat, sweeping the hair there over my shoulder, I felt the slight bump and retracted my hand immediately. _He'd given me a hickey!_

Still dazed, I looked up to where he'd spun around to watch me, leaning against the wall besides the bathroom with an amused grin on his lips. He crossed his arms and hooked his foot around the opposite ankle and stared at me, lifting an eyebrow as I sifted through each and every memory I managed to retain, which wasn't exactly a lot considering my state last night.

"I left you some aspirin and a glass of water on the beside last night, but you passed out before taking them." He explained, gesturing to the scratched item of furnishing in a passive sort of way. He looked a little… out of sorts, like he wasn't used to caring for people. He scratched the back of his neck and raked a hand through his chaotic hair. "Umm…" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning around to enter the bathroom.

Was Damon Salvatore shy? _Well, I'll be damned…_

Spinning at the last moment, he waggled his eyebrows, "Would you care to join me, princess?"

_Guess arrogant ass has made a reappearance… _

"Stop calling me that." I admonished, shaking my head to dispel my train of thought. I hopped out of the bed to shimmy my dress back down to cover the bare essentials.

Damon licked his lips, "Considering you didn't deny me, I take that as you want to join me?"

I rolled my eyes whilst simultaneously raking a hand through my hair, "I think I'll pass."

"You _think_?" He repeated, smirking, "Does that mean you're wavering on your decision. By all means, join me, Elena, because I'm-"

"All for conserving water energy. Yes, Damon, I remember." I interjected, sarcasm dripping from my words. My thoughts travelled to the boys school locker rooms and the ultimatum he'd offered me a few weeks ago. I'd taken the easier option because I'd been scared of what giving in to him entailed, including the fact that it would destroy my mums and Giuseppe's chances of an actual, steady relationship. Causal flings and a handful of dates was what my mum had spent the years since my dads death doing and I'd initially hated her for it, so how could I go ahead and ruin it after being so pissed off about her dating too much when she was starting to settle down? It was a contradiction in itself.

He threw his hands in the air and took a small step backwards, "Hey, I'm just an environmentalist, is all. You know, whoop whoop, go green!" He pumped his fist in the air, winked and disappeared into the bathroom. The door locked with a click and I listened intently as the water started up and he began whistling a tune.

Sighing, I readjusted my hair, but without the aid of a brush, it framed my face with a chaotic mess. It looked like I'd backcombed it or been attacked by a racoon.

I quickly slipped my shoes on and combed my fingers through my hair, but they just got caught and tangled in it so I gave up after a good few minutes.

Picking my phone up off of the old nightstand, I flicked through a few concerned messages off of my mum and then a dozen birthday notifications on _Facebook_. I thanked each of them in turn for their kind messages and then I backtracked.

**Damon Salvatore posted on your timeline: **_Happy Birthday, Princess;)_

But that wasn't what had caught my eye. Beneath the message was a picture. A picture of me… dancing on the bar with Bonnie and the redhead.

_Oh, god!_

I could feel the bile rising in my throat at the prospect of the whole school catching a glimpse of this. What would they think of me?!

With my phone clenched tightly in my hand, I stalked towards the bathroom Damon occupied and rapped my knuckles rather aggressively against the door.

"Damon!" I called out, seeing as he didn't reply.

The lock released with a click after a few moments and Damon materialised on the other side of the doorway, swinging it open to reveal him leaning against the frame with a white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips.

"Finally decided you want to join me?" He purred, raising a thick black brow.

"Actually, I…. Umm, I… I need to, umm…" I muttered, licking my dry lips at the sight of his magnificent physique.

"Well, spit it out."

"I need to go." I mumbled, dashing past the doorway to the front door.

"Go?" He called from the bathroom entrance. He was no longer slouched against the frame, but standing upright and looking towards me in concern.

"Yeah, I just need to get home and… sort something out." I lied easily.

"You've got to pick up your car from the garage, right?" He asked, making his way to the bathroom to get dressed. The sound of his zipper sliding home had me close my eyes in an attempt to not barge on in there and help him get dressed. Or, more likely, undressed… He'd left the door wide open, an open invitation, but from where I was standing, I could only see the upper part of his body reflected in the mirror.

"Umm, yeah, I actually completely forgot about that." I cursed myself mentally.

Now fully clothed, unfortunately, he padded towards me and when he stopped in front of me, he reached his hand forward, as if to cup my face in his hands or stroke the back of his hand across my cheek. I turned my head away and shrunk down against the door, but he only unlatched the door and yanked it open.

"I'll drop you off there."

We walked down the old-fashioned hallways in relative silence and then I remembered how intoxicated we'd both been and the inner innocent, goody-goody part of me claimed her spotlight.

"You didn't drive here did you?" I asked as we took the stairs down to the reception area.

"No, we walked. We'll have to walk to the bar to get my car. It's only a few blocks down, I think."

I hesitated a second before I spoke again, "And we didn't… you know?"

Somewhere in some justifiable part of my mind, I knew that Damon and I hadn't had sex, but I needed to make sure. I couldn't even remember walking -or, most likely, stumbling- my way here. I just needed reassurance.

He scoffed from where he was striding a little ways in front of me and rounded the corner to the exit, "No, Elena, we did not have sex." He shook his head and laughed softly under his breath and I knew that his next words weren't for my ears, but I heard them nonetheless, "At least not in the real world anyway."

* * *

I swung the cab of my truck open and walked towards the bonnet, patting it's hood. After a fretful few weeks in repair, my baby was back on the road again. As good as new.

Okay, maybe that was taking it a tad bit too far, but at least it ran smoothly. And started.

I leant back, parking myself against the side of the truck, and folded my arms across my chest. I could hear Damon's heavy footfalls echoing off of every step as he surveyed the car for me; each and every perimeter of it. Apparently, he wanted to ensure that it was of 'optimum safety' because he didn't want a 'repeat performance'. His words, not mine.

Once he was satisfied with his inspection, we went on our merry way back to my place. He said that his dad was working and he didn't have a key. Complete bullshit, but I bit my lip to hide my smirk and pushed my foot harder on the gas. It felt good to drive again.

The windows were rolled down -literally, because my truck didn't have all those latest automatic switches that controlled the windows- and the wind was billowing my hair about my face. It felt refreshing and uplifting; better than any other hangover cure my mind could conjure, so I hummed along to the familiar tune on the radio with a smile of pure ecstasy on my face.

My blissful mood didn't last for very long though.

Pulling into the driveway with my lips still tugged up into a small smile, I locked the car behind me -also using the key to manually turn the lock in the car door- and walked up the front porch with Damon behind me.

"You're sure your mum won't mind me being here?" He asked politely. He was only asking to be courteous. Something told me that he didn't really care if my mum didn't want him here, or anyone else for that matter. He just… didn't care what others thought of him, and I guess I sort of respected him in that regard.

I shunned down his concern with a bat of my hand and unlocked the front door, overlooking the sleek black Audi parked in our driveway.

I faltered when I stepped over the threshold and saw my mum and _her_ sitting on the couch. I froze immediately and felt Damon slam into my back. _Hard._

I stumbled forward a little and released a small gasp. Both sets of heads on the couch turned my way.

"Elena," Mum smiled, pleased. Her eyes told a whole other story. She was frowning and I knew that I'd probably get a bunch of abuse for spending the night out without telling her. She made her way over and encircled my arm with her hand, tugging me towards the couch next to her.

I stoically forced a tight lipped smile for the women in front of me. Internally glaring at her blonde highlights and pink, overdone lipgloss. She grinned expectantly at me and set her glass of water on the table. "How lovely to see you again, Elena. I'm sorry about the unscheduled arrival, I decided last minute that I'd come and see how you and Jeremy are. I believe a happy birthday is in order." She chuckled as if everything she'd done had been forgotten and I turned to gather my mums reaction, but of course, there wasn't anything for her to react to. She didn't know.

"Isn't that wonderful?" Mum trilled, smiling broadly as she motioned with her eyes to the perfectly put-together woman sitting with long, ample legs crossed over one another. She still had that shit-eating grin on her face and I couldn't take it anymore.

Jumping from the couch, I stalked to where Damon was waiting in the doorway, eyes wide as I bulldozed towards him.

I ignored my mums protests as the bitch tried to coax her into calming down. You _caused all of this, _I wanted to scream, you _don't have the right to try to console her!_

I slammed the door on myself in the truck and waited for Damon to quickly hop in. He still seemed a little shocked at my outburst, but didn't question it when I reversed backwards at full speed and shot down the road like an arrow.

I was pent up. I could feel the adrenaline spike rising with each passing second. My hands clenched around the steering wheel, but then my high began to fade and I could feel the angry, resigned tears building behind my eyelids.

I blinked them back and raked my bottom teeth across my lip.

"Where do you want dropping?" I spat, trying to hold myself together.

He shook his head infinitesimally and I glared sideways at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes." I answered, because I wanted more than anything to rant and rave and get it off of my chest, but that wasn't a possibility.

I remained silent and he sighed, "Are you _going _to talk about it?"

I sighed as well, "No."

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know. I just needed to get away."

"Are you going to the game next week?" I knew what he was doing, trying to take my mind off of things.

I'd play along. "Wednesday, right?" I recalled Caroline asking me last week.

"Yeah, its against Augustine. Ever heard of them?"

I nodded, because Caroline had vaguely broached on the subject of Mystic Falls' rivalling competitors.

It took me a while to figure it out, but I soon realised that he'd actually thwarted me. I'd forgotten all about our little visitor and the whole fiasco that s_he'd _brought up with her return, up until now, of course.

I sighed and pulled up outside of Mystic Grill. "I'm gonna head over to Caroline's for the night," I cringed when I realised that _she _could be staying for a little longer than one night, "You can get your keys from your dad and I could drop you off home, if you'd like."

He was gazing out of the window, "No, that's okay, I think I see the guys in there anyway."

All I could see was Tessa with her ass hanging out by the entrance, waving seductively at Damon.

I didn't say anything as Damon jumped out. Instead, I reached over the centre console to slam the door shut as hard as I could, more tears building up as he blatantly ogled her the way he'd done to me, "Elena-," He tried to say, tapping the window in an attempt to get my attention, but I didn't give him any as I began to put my foot down on the gas. He walked alongside the truck for a few beats, but I sped off before he could get a word in edgeways.

From my rearview mirror, I could see him punch a wall.

I hoped it hurt.

* * *

The first thing I did upon arriving at Caroline's was brush my teeth to get rid of the fuzzy feeling in my mouth. I splashed my face with some cold water and borrowed a brush to subdue the tangles and knots in my hair. I couldn't exactly take a shower, because it seemed weird to take a shower at a friends house that you weren't fully comfortable with.

My stomach grumbled when I returned to her room and she offered me some breakfast, but I politely declined. My stomach was churning from disgust and hurt -not hunger- and I was afraid that if I ate, I'd vomit it all back up again anyway.

Instead, I told her that someone unexpected was here and I needed to get away and she smiled and chirped excitedly, "Well, that's worked out well because I was just about to go shopping for an outfit for the game on wednesday. The guys always go for a celebratory meal after the game. It's tradition. You can come, too, if you want."

I nodded, mustering up a smile from deep inside me, and went back to the car to grab my clutch from last night. I still had a little birthday money left that I could use to rustle up an outfit with and maybe this shopping expedition could brighten my mood some.

_Who are you kidding? You just want something sexy to get a reaction from Damon!_

As soon as I thought it, I felt disgusted with myself.

* * *

**A/N- Okay, don't kill me guys! I know, I know, I'm a shitty updater, but I have a good reason! So… the reason is, I'm a shitty updater. Oops, I'm sorry! *Dodges a flying thesaurus and prays for forgiveness* I've already started the next chapter -big game night! Truthfully, I came to a little brick wall with this story, but I think I found a bulldozer or something and knocked it flat on its ass because nobody can stop me from writing! My brain malfunctioned, but I think I fixed it back up again. I'm still not 100% happy with this chapter, but I've messed around with the concept of it for months now and I've delayed it for far too long, so I figured what the hell. Thanks to those of you who PM'ed me urging me to update and those who even went the extra mile to help me overcome my writers block. You guys are awesome! Okay, I'll stop feeding your egos now…**

**You'd think that after reading and re-reading this chapter for months now, it wouldn't have any mistakes, but if there is, excuse them or, even better, tell me so I can fix them! **

**Any guesses on who this mystery woman is and what she's done to distress Elena so much? **


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:**

The following week on Wednesday night, I was freezing my butt off in the stands of the football field on my lonesome.

Caroline was down below on the frosty field in her short skirt and matching maroon belly top. It was a wonder she wasn't shivering, because I was so sure my lips were an unorthodox shade of blue and my fingertips and toes would fall off any second now, even under my thick red jacket and matching knitted hat, gloves and scarf. I looked like a swaddle of cotton, but I sure as hell didn't feel as warm.

The icy wind slashed at my face and burned my nose and I buried it quickly in my scarf, panting and watching as my breath swirled and then dissipated in front of me.

The crowd roared around me and pumped their fists at the opposing team, who were equally as unhinged. We were winning, but only by a few points. Not that I was paying attention.

My gaze kept flickering to Damon in his tight, white spandex leggings and I'd shiver, but I was not quite sure whether it was due to the cold or not.

"You look cold," someone spoke emotionlessly besides me. I untucked my chin from my scarf and turned to the girl a few empty seats beside me. A mass of black curls fell from the slanted black beanie on her head and curled around her ears and throat. She tucked a strand behind her ear with her fingerless gloves and chipped black nails.

She, unlike myself, was not dressed for the occasion. She should've been a shivering, shaking mess, but she was the epitome of composed in her dark grey, slashed jeans, black halter neck, overly large grey denim jacket and combat boots. The stylish, yet worn, black scarf clung to her ample breasts and protrudent collar bones, and the smudged eyeliner was days old.

"And you don't," I observed, noting the sleeves of her top rolled up midway of her arm beneath her jacket.

She shrugged and folded her arms loosely across her chest, "Damon not had enough with you just yet?"

I shrugged, too, a little defensive, and she chuckled and shook her head, "Why would you say that?" I asked, my standoffish tone sounded puny as I quivered in the cold.

She eyed me peculiarly for a second, "I'm guessing you're new to town," She stopped for a second to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. In fact, it looked a little mocking, a little scary actually. "Welcome to hell, oh _saintly_ one ." She grinned and threw her head back in laughter, but it wasn't the normal sort of laugh, the funny kind; it was almost conniving.

"Uh, thanks, I think." This only made her grin tenfold. "I guess, since I'm in hell, I sinned somewhere along the line, making me _non_-saintly."

"Touché." She seemed almost pleased with me as she took a strawberry twizzler out of her pocket and held it out to me, like a dog being rewarded by it's master.

We watched the rest of the game in relative silence. Bonnie animatedly booed and cheered with the rest of the crowd, although she was mostly taking the piss out of everyone else around her. It was clear this wasn't her favourite place to be, she seemed to be too outgoing to be confined to a small football field in Mystic Falls High, yet here she was. Her and Damon must've been pretty close. For some reason, this thought annoyed me more than it should've and I found myself glaring at the girl as she chomped on her twizzler and slurped on _my _can of coke.

At half-time, she let out a big belch as she sat the empty can down besides me, before she loped down the aisle to speak to Damon.

When he squeezed her and she threw her arms around his neck, swaying softly in a semi-circle, I looked away. But I couldn't keep my eyes away for too long.

Soon, I was peeking at them inconspicuously out of the corner of my eye, and then I was full on staring at them, openly ogling at the way her hands pulled him infinitesimally closer as his arms rested just lightly on her lower back. They pulled away and Bonnie's smile was radiant. If I hadn't seen Bonnie get off with that dude at the bar, I would've immediately jumped to conclusions, just like everyone else seemed to be doing.

Tessa, with the rest of the cheerleaders, was glaring at them as her little comrades spoke animatedly besides her, oblivious to her fixation on the two. I wondered what sort of backlashing Damon would get for his little display and grinned to myself. He deserved it.

I hadn't spoken to him since the weekend after his little temper tantrum at the Grill. He'd come in the next day with a bandage wrapped around his fist, but I hadn't commented on it in chemistry. In fact, I'd pretended I hadn't even noticed. If he wanted to go around punching walls, then so be it.

It finally pierced through my senses, or lack thereof, that Bonnie was pointing directly at me. I didn't even have time to react, to duck my head or pretend that I was looking past them at something in the distance, when Damon followed the direction of Bonnie's finger and finally spotted me in the crowd. The smile on his face vanished and he quickly turned to grab Bonnie by the elbow. She tried, feebly, to tug herself free, but gave up when he leant down to whisper something in her ear. She rolled her eyes and smirked, and her lips moved for a split second before both of their stares returned to me.

I couldn't look away. To look away, was to concede.

I wouldn't concede. I couldn't. It sounded stupid even to me, but I still couldn't bring myself to look away.

He finally gave in, frowning as Coach called him back to the congregation of spandex shorts and football jerseys with slashes of black paint marring their faces. The sweat had made them fade and smudge in places and mud now mixed in with it.

Bonnie made a dash for it whilst he was distracted and took the stairs two at a time before falling back onto the bench besides me, heaving.

She made a point of scooting closer and throwing her arm over my shoulder, much to Damon's dismay. She grinned down at him, and when he turned to stalk away, she huffed and dropped her arm, scooting a little further away from me.

"What was all that about?"

She rolled her doe brown eyes, "Damon thinks I'm a bad influence or something." She waved her hands unceremoniously.

"On _me_?"

She shrugged, slouching back further in the process, "Guess so."

I rolled my jaw, feeling my anger peak. How dare he go ignoring me all week and then act like some sort of martyr by supposedly looking out for me. If he wanted to play that game, then I'd better go out of my way to make it harder for him.

"Guess I'll have to make a point of _disobeying_ him then, won't I?" I muttered sarcastically, huffy at his audacity. Why should he care?

She grinned, dipped her hand in her pocket and withdrew something black, and took a bite of the rope of liquorice before pointing it in my direction, "I like you, princess."

"Not you, too." I groaned at my suddenly very popular nickname, to which she chuckled and nudged my shoulder with her own.

I think I liked her, too.

* * *

The whistle sounded and cheers erupted from our stands, I clapped along with them, a small smile on my lips. Although, my mind had been elsewhere for most of the game.

Bonnie pumped her fists in the air and wolf whistled as Damon jogged off the pitch. He chuckled and shook his head in our direction at her display. His eyes lingered a little longer than necessary, but I couldn't be sure I wasn't imagining it. Maybe he was looking at Bonnie.

The thought made my heart splutter as a wave of dejection washed over me, which was ridiculous because I shouldn't be feeling _that_.

I spotted Caroline making a beeline for me from the stands below and cursed internally. I suddenly didn't feel up to going to a celebratory party anymore.

"Elena!" She trilled, waving her arm to capture my attention as she weaved her way through the countercurrent of people trying to leave. She squeezed past Bonnie and stopped besides me, completely oblivious to her presence, "Hey, you ready to go? Tyler's chickened out, says he doesn't want to deal with a trashed house tomorrow, so we're all going to-"

"Actually, Care, I don't feel well, I think I'm gonna pass for tonight." I quickly interjected.

"Oh, but you just bought that new outfit and it'll-"

"But I'm sure Bonnie here would love to go." I quickly manoeuvred my way around Bonnie and placed my hands on her shoulders as an offering.

"I'd rather gauge my eyes out with a hot sp-"

"See? She'd love to go." I smiled appeasingly at the both of them. Neither seemed pleased. In fact, Bonnie looked like she wanted to gauge _my _eyes out with a hot spoon.

This was clearly a very different side of Bonnie than the one from the bar the other week. She contemptuously eyed Caroline up and down, taking in her frilly white socks, pristine white pumps and the little plaits in her hair with matching maroon ribbons.

"I really don't think that Bonnie would, umm…" Caroline wrinkled her nose and frowned at the rugged girl, "_fit in _with our crowd really."

Bonnie shrugged and slung her sagging backpack over her shoulder, empowered by her degrading words, "Lead the way, Barbie."

Caroline's mouth opened in rebuke, but nothing came out but a load of unintelligible stuttering. Her shoulders finally dropped in defeat as she huffed and stomped off, glaring at me as she turned. I tried to fight the grin that threatened to break out, but Bonnie stuck a finger up at Caroline's retreating back and I snorted in response.

"I don't know what you're laughing at," Bonnie called back to me, "you're not leaving me alone with Goldilocks over here."

"Whatever, are you driving? Caroline drove me here, but I don't think she likes me very much at the moment to give me a ride back."

"Sure thing, _Princess_."

She was purposefully calling me that now. I wondered if she'd somehow heard Damon mockingly call me that for her to catch on…

I huffed as I ambled my way through the rubbish littering the stands, "I wish everyone would stop calling me that…"

"Can't make wishes in hell remember, kid." Bonnie chuckled, wrinkling her nose at a little boy with his finger stuck up his nose besides a hot drink stall. She stopped to grab a can of coke on the way through the parking lot, popping it open and taking a rather manly swig. She'd downed it within a few seconds and threw it in a trashcan as I trailed behind her.

Caroline had stomped off somewhere without so much as a goodbye, and I guess I felt sort of bad for letting her down, but I really _didn't _feel great right now.

_She'll get over it. _

Of course she would, it was Caroline after all.

Bonnie slowed down some as we neared a rusty motorbike. I almost stopped in my tracks when she actually stopped besides it. She fitted a helmet onto her head, glanced at me, and handed it to me instead.

"Are you-… are you _insane_?" I stuttered, horrified, "I'm not getting on that thing."

"Suit yourself." She shrugged and snatched the helmet out of my hands, clipping it on and swinging her legs over the bike until she was straddling it, seemingly unfazed by my reaction.

I bit my lip as I eyed the deathtrap. Surely it wasn't safe? It didn't _look_ safe anyway. It was all rusted and old, and the roar of the engine was deafening, which definitely wasn't healthy.

Bonnie saw me scrutinising the bike and rolled her eyes, unbuttoning the helmet again and holding it out to me.

"Last chance, kid," She offered, nodding her head towards something behind her. I looked up and my eyes widened when I spotted Damon stalking towards us; _me_. He looked livid, his jaw was set and he was blatantly glaring at me.

"What did I do?" I asked myself, mystified.

"Don't know, but do you really want to hang around long enough to find out?"

Her words made my decision for me and I quickly hopped on the back, strapping the helmet on quickly as Damon broke into a jog.

"Go!" I shouted nervously and then she sped off.

It wasn't the smoothest ride ever, and the spluttering engine made any conversation impossible. My eyes watered from the sharp wind and my ears all but froze off.

It didn't occur to me to tell her where I lived, so when we drove past the bar from my birthday last week, I shouldn't have been surprised that we hadn't gone immediately home. She pulled up outside a rundown looking cluster of apartments -just a couple of blocks away from the bar- and killed the engine.

"Where are we?" I asked, eyeing the defaced intercom besides a metal door that didn't seem to shut properly. Bonnie climbed off and ran up the steps without a word, returning a few minutes later with her hands stuffed deep in her pockets.

"Just a quick pitstop. Nobodies home, you can come in if you want."

"Pitstop?" I echoed stupidly. "_Where are we?_"

"It's my fucking place, okay? Sheesh, stop crawling up my ass about it." She stalked off, leaving me stumped behind her. I quickly followed her up the steps and through the first floor to a stairway. I sheepishly trailed behind her as she climbed a few sets of stairs before we reached the third floor. She led me through a door into an apartment, even worse than the outside suggested.

It was tiny and clustered as hell. A sunken couch was pressed against the back wall with a red throw covering it to hide the wrinkles in the brown leather, although I was sure it was supposed to be cream. A coffee table was basically pressed against it due to the lack of space and, next to that, was an end-table in a whole other wood with a dusty, old lamp sitting lopsidedly on top. A television set that was beyond ancient -it must have been from the 90's- was on a sturdy little stand, a long antenna hanging out of the top.

Bonnie led me through what I assumed was the living-area to an even smaller room, if that were even possible.

It only had a bed and a small chest of drawers. The window leading to the fire escape besides her bed was wide open and she leant over to slam it shut, along with the bedroom door.

I suddenly felt a little uncertain, but she only slumped on the bed and patted the spot next to her as she opened a drawer.

Cautiously, I sat down, eyeing the drawer she was now rummaging through.

"Ah-ha." She murmured triumphantly, holding up a small plastic bag.

I gulped, "Please tell me that's not-…"

"Oh, lighten up a little, will you. Its only a little weed, nothing to report home about." She raised her eyebrow at my expression. "Besides, if I've got to go to this stupid party, I'm gonna need a shit tonne of this." She held up the little baggie and winked. "Want some?"

* * *

I didn't have any. Well, not really anyway.

I mean, I may've had some, but I didn't mean to. I had to breathe and breathing was natural, and it's not as if I purposely put the thing between my lips, right? Right.

"You know, I think I like you, too." I sighed, feeling a fuzzy warm feeling diffusing through me.

Bonnie chuckled, "What?"

"Earlier," I breathed, staring at the patterns in her ceiling, "you said you might like me and I think I might like you, too."

She chuckled again and took another drag of the little _thing_ she'd rolled up. She said it was an art, a masterpiece as she'd carefully rolled, licked and lit it. Her fingers had been working so delicately, with so much precision as she stuck her tongue out in concentration, that I had no doubt in my mind that she really did think it was an art.

She held the little 'masterpiece' out to me as she dusted her sheets with her free hand, but I adamantly declined, shaking my head a little too excessively. "No, no, I don't… do that stuff. Saint, remember?"

She shook her head and took another drag, "More for me, I suppose."

We were quite for a minute and I thought about Damon. Was he still mad at me? What was he doing now? At the party? Probably getting some "company" off of Tessa I'm sure.

I rolled over until I was sitting up, wafting away the smoke that had shrouded the room, suddenly feeling somewhat level-headed. "I need to go home."

"Now?" She said tiredly.

I nodded and grabbed my coat and things, slipping them on silently as Bonnie lay sprawled on her bed, eyes closed, joint held above her head.

"Yeah, now would be good," I replied, but she didn't respond. "Bonnie?"

"Hmm…" She moaned, rolling over onto her stomach, the arm still holding her joint above her head.

"I'll just call somebody to come get me," I mumbled, quickly grabbing my things and hightailing it out of the building, ashamed at having even been near that stuff. I knew better, and by criticising Jeremy I was being hypocritical, despite not having actually smoked the stuff.

_Jeremy's done much worse, _I placated myself.

I shook my head, and fastened the buttons of my jacket, pulling my scarf and hat on, as I used my butt to push open the door.

It was even chillier out now and I wondered how long I'd been here for. Was it too late to call my mum?

I tried calling her mobile anyway, huffing when she didn't answer. Instead, I tried the house phone, sighing in relief when the ringing tone cut off.

"Hello?" _She_ trilled. I froze, all the blood draining from my face, "Elena is that you?" I didn't reply, I'd stopped walking along the sidewalk in shock. My hands shuck and my breathing shuddered. "Hello?" She repeated.

It took me a while to compose myself. "Yes," I replied stoically, "it's me."

She sighed in feigned relief, "Your mother's been so worried, Elena. Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I almost spat through grated teeth, venom lacing my words, "Is my mum there?"

"Actually, your mother went looking for you. She went to her beau's house, figuring you might be with that son of his. What's your mother's sweetheart called again? Geppetto?" She chuckled at her stupid little joke, her plastic laughter grating on my nerves.

"You mean, she's with Giuseppe?" I smiled despite myself, using the most sickly sweet voice I could muster, "I wonder, will you fuck him like you fucked my dad, _Aunt Jenna_?"

* * *

**A/N- Miss me? I know that I've missed writing this a whole lot. This whole Aunt Jenna situation has been planned since before I started writing this fic, I just needed to wait a little before I implemented it into the story, and I figured since I've been AWOL for quite some time, I'd give you guys a little something-something. Honestly though, you guys have been amazing! Again, PM'ing me with encouragement and the like, it really truly means a lot to me. I know there wasn't much Damon in this chapter, but Bonnie needed her airtime. Until next time… **


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